


Bows of Promise

by Hathor



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Anxiety Attacks, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Jargon, Past Abuse, Romance, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 134,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathor/pseuds/Hathor
Summary: After several Master's Degrees, two Doctorates and numerous catastrophic experiences Yami decided that Egypt no longer held anything for him. Moving to Japan to obtain yet another degree and to run away from it all, he never thought he was about to get a lot more than he bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello readers, old ones and new *waves awkwardly* it's been a while since I last wrote a proper author's note. Haha. Welcome to this fic. I hope you will enjoy it. This has been called "So Unreal" before, a very long time ago. It was full of typos, very awful storyline and had piles over piles of rubbish information. I was fourteen when I first wrote it. Here I am at 26, rewriting it.
> 
> Fair warning, however, this is filled with medical jargon that may be ignored, but I just felt added a sense of reality to the story. I understand it won't be everyone's cup of tea, but give it a chance before hitting the back button.
> 
> This story will be updated once a week. Enjoy.

It was a bright sunny day. 

Perhaps it was a bit of a clichéd start, but for him, this was hardly the beginning of anything, even if he had crossed one side of the entire world just a few hours ago, from one country to another to start a new job in this new place. He barely felt the anxiety related to new beginnings. Only a twinge of uncertainty every few hours, but otherwise? 

He smiled… 

It was one of those days where one woke up with such a smile forced on their lips by how beautiful the world was. The start of the week…or was it? Sweet smelling spring air, little blossoms on the trees shyly peeking from their cocoon and a breeze that gently lifted spirits on its feather-soft wings… 

Involuntarily, his thin lips smiled gently to the world around him…long lashes were closed in a content expression, until he decided he simply could not miss one more second of watching this beautiful place. He opened his eyes, allowing bright crimson orbs to glance around him at tall trees and bright sunshine and utter peace that the place screamed. 

The softness his surroundings emanated gave him endless peace of mind that he did not really care that his contact in Domino was not able to meet him and was sending his wife instead. He said her name was Mai and that he was so sorry he couldn’t welcome him in person but an unexpected surgery came up. 

Yami assured him that he more than understood. 

He leaned calmly against the body of the car he bought in advance before arriving in Japan, waiting for his future colleague’s wife to arrive since he really had no inkling where to go and how in the city since his plane arrived just an hour ago. 

He did not have to wait too long. Within only fifteen minutes from the call he received from his contact, he heard a soft clearing of a throat beside him. He turned towards the sound, smiling gently at the woman standing a few feet away from him, her body language having an air of hesitance about it, like she was unsure of what she was doing. 

She was really beautiful woman. Tall and feminine, with long, wavy blonde hair that she styled up into a messy ponytail, and allowed several strands to come loose, surrounding her face and neck playfully. She wore a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a white off-the-shoulder top and a pair of ballerina shoes. Her amethyst eyes betrayed more of her uncertainty as she stared right at him and she opened her mouth for a second, closed it, then opened it again to ask, “Dr. Motou?” 

He smiled and nodded once, straightening from his position as she sighed in relief. 

“Thank goodness,” she said, returning his smile with a radiant one of her own as she extended a hand, which he shook as she said, “I was so scared I’d show up late, or I wouldn’t find you…” 

“I think I described where I was quite accurately, Mrs. Katsuya,” Yami replied with a chuckle. 

“Oh please…don’t,” holding up a delicate hand in front of her face, she groaned, a mortified expression on her beautiful features. “Just Mai. I told Jonouchi he should have changed his last name to _mine_ , Valentine, but he is just so traditional. Now whenever someone calls me by _his_ last name, I sound like some old woman knitting in her backyard.” 

Yami stared at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing at how serious she sounded. 

“Yes, laugh…go ahead. I know it’s funny,” she grumbled, crossing her arms with a disgruntled expression. 

Yami sobered up, his chuckles dying down to a gentle smile. He gestured for her to wait a second, rummaging through his bag for a few moments, until he found what he was looking for. His smile widened a fraction more, as he stepped closer to her, handing her a bar of Lindtt dark chocolate, while saying, “I’m sorry I laughed. Here you go, please accept my apology.” 

She stared at him in shock for a few moments, numbly accepting the chocolate, then her face broke into a most beautiful smile and she said, “You’re a man after my heart, Doctor… I wasn’t that offended, you didn’t have to bribe me with chocolate. Shall we go straight home or would you like to grab a cup of coffee while we wait for Jonouchi to wrap up at work?” 

“Let’s wait for Jonouchi,” he suggested, offering her his arm and generally being a gentleman. 

She giggled. 

“What?!” he defensively asked, withdrawing a bit and taking his arm back, thinking he offended her. 

“You’re so awesome. We are going to be great friends,” she said, taking the arm he had tucked to himself after her giggle. “C’mon, good Doctor, let’s go have something to eat other than that horrible flight food and some real coffee. Jeez, the passengers totally _must_ sue the air-travel companies. Just getting all those thousands of feet above air entitles me to a decent meal. Like that one time Jonouchi took me to Turkey after getting his fellowship and before our wedding…” 

Yami smiled, opening the door to the passenger’s seat and letting her inside his car before quickly going over to the driver’s seat to start driving away, while her chatter continued amiably. 

“Jonouchi is gonna like you. He was afraid you’d be a stuck up little brat; said that your CV was too impressive for you not to be arrog…” she trailed off. 

He blinked and shot a sideways glance at her to see her eyes widening as if in shock at what she was just saying. Then started laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, joining him and laughing at her poor choice of words. 

“I might be a bit of a brat, to be honest. Dr. Katsuya’s fears may be justified,” he calmly told her, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Don’t call him that… he really won’t like it if you do,” Mai said, pointing left. He followed her directions, until they started the long road that took them into the depths of the city, then she added, “Jou doesn’t like it when people call him that. His high school friends used to mock him by calling him ‘Dr. Katsuya’ after he started med-school because he hadn’t seemed the type in school.” 

Yami oh-ed silently. 

“I am very talkative, sorry,” Mai apologetically told him, glancing sideways at him for a moment, then looking ahead at the road. 

“Oh please don’t apologize,” he quickly told her. “It’s alright, you can tell me about it if you want.” He was genuinely interested. He didn’t mind lending a listening ear, and besides, they were going to be spending a good deal of time together until her husband arrived, so they might as well become friends. 

She smiled, and kept up a chatter about how her husband wasn’t exactly the very disciplined type, how he just barely made it in school. He wasn’t and never would be the overly-studious type. He was fun and lively, partying and playing football all year long. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the first amongst his peers. He made mistakes, got kicked out of lectures, made fun of doctors and patients… 

They had made it to the heart of the city by then and she was giving him directions to a coffee shop that made excellent coffee, she assured him, then she started telling him about how Jonouchi was more concerned with gaining physical skills than theoretical knowledge as the years passed by. Eventually, he was so much better than his peers that he was now the head of the emergency department in Domino’s St. Michael’s Hospital as well as one of the best surgeons in its Surgery Department. 

She then started complaining that everyone thought it was more than perfectly fine to swamp him with responsibilities. He was not exactly a complainer but she knew, even if he didn’t say anything, that sometimes it got a bit too hard for him. She told him she was so happy to see him beat one obstacle after another, proving ancient higher-ups that he was more than capable of dealing with what they had to dish out at him. 

Yami absorbed the onslaught of information as they sat sipping at their coffee. He let it sink in and kept bits and pieces of it stored for later use. He tried offering comfort where possible, advice where appropriate. The woman was sweet, her love for his future colleague obvious in the way she spoke of him and the pride she felt over his achievements, as if they were her own. It warmed his heart. 

They sat together, exchanging conversation and going through cups of coffee one after the other until it was a little past three in the afternoon, when a playful voice came from beside them, saying, “Sure…sit there, drink coffee and have fun, while I was stuck elbow-deep in portal blood.” 

Yami turned and with ease, a smile tugged on his lips when his gaze fell on a tall, blonde young man with hazel eyes and sharp features, softened only by the affectionate little grin that crinkled the sides of his eyes. He was dressed in casuals; a t-shirt and worn jeans. Overall, he looked very friendly and Yami found himself feeling more and more comfortable. 

Mai got up, laughing and placing a kiss on his cheek, “Don’t be so bitter about it. No one told you to go into medicine…you walked in willingly, baby,” she turned towards the young man sitting opposite her when he got up. “Jonouchi, Dr. Motou…Yami, this is my husband, Jonouchi…” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Yami smiled, politely extending his hand for Jonouchi to shake. 

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Jonouchi said, pointing to the seat once more. “Let’s sit down a bit longer, I need a cup of coffee. That is, if you don’t mind, Dr. Motou.” 

“Please don’t call me that, just Yami,” Yami asked, as they took their seats once more. “Bad day I suppose?” 

“Oh no, that was a _short_ day at work. You’re gonna _love_ it here,” Jonouchi sarcastically said as the waitress came. She asked if he wanted his usual and he smiled, nodding. Small town, Yami realized. Everyone knew each other by name. After she walked away, he turned back to Yami, “If you file in for a vacation a week from now, I wouldn’t blame you.” 

“I won’t don’t worry,” Yami calmly replied, that calm smile on his face still. He didn’t think these people ever had to work in conditions he worked with back in Egypt. He was confident that it will never be as hard or stressful. He wasn’t being overly confident or arrogant. He just knew that one of the world’s most developed countries’ working conditions could never be more stressful than a third world country’s. 

“So…” Jonouchi said after considering this for a few seconds of silence. “Why Domino?” The smile faded a bit, replaced by a serious expression and mingled with the calm pleasantness of Yami’s angular features at this question, “You haven’t applied anywhere else. Your CV is very impressive,” Yami smiled and exchanged looks with Mai, but decided not to embarrass Jonouchi, letting him continue, “You could have been approved anywhere else in the world.” 

“Where else to apply for a Phd in trauma surgery as respectable as the one received from Japan?” he answered smoothly. He took a sip out of the mug of mocha, adding the explanation that the blond wanted, “I’m looking for fresh experience, Egypt has nothing for me anymore and learning a fourth language would have taken a bit of time; I just wanted to leave.” 

There was a sense of finality in his tone. 

Jonouchi did not press for more details. Which simply made him climb higher in Yami’s good graces. “You’ll find your stay here very pleasant,” he reassured. “Dr. Seto Kaiba will be pleased to work with you.” 

Mai snorted and rolled her eyes. 

Yami stared questioningly at her. 

“Nothing, Mai just can’t leave people’s personal lives alone,” Jonouchi groaned, pausing only for a moment to thank the waitress who arrived with his order, then continued while opening the sachet of brown sugar, “Dr. Kaiba is a great surgeon and will be your partner and a great resource for your thesis. He will be more than willing to share his vast knowledge and research abilities with you.” 

“More like share body fluids and bedding abilities with you…” Mai mumbled under her breath, earning a glare from her husband. 

Realization dawned on Yami and he rolled his eyes. “Just my luck, getting someone like that for a partner on my work…” 

Jonouchi groaned and shot Mai another glare, “Please ignore her and try dealing with him with an open mind. He is not as bad as she makes him sound.” 

“Oh please… we both know… hell, Domino in all of its entirety knows how he jumps from one bed to another,” she shrugged, stealing the small piece of fudgy brownie that arrived next to Jonouchi’s order. Yami seemed to be amused by their exchange, sitting back comfortably in his seat and smiling as she bit off one end of the chocolate treat and munching it, then adding, “It’s only fair to warn Yami about it.” 

“I was gonna eat that!” Jonouchi protested, snatching the remainder of the brownie from her, “don’t complain about your weight later. You’re the one eating all those chocolates!” 

“Yami got me a chocolate today,” she said with amusement on her features, pulling out the bar of chocolate and showing it to her husband. 

Jonouchi groaned and looked at him accusingly, making him throw his hands up in a placating gesture, “Hey, it was a peace offering. I didn’t know she was on a diet. Not that she needs it.” he was trying to be as diplomatic as possible. 

“I know she doesn’t. She still complains though. We agreed she gets only one bar a week. This week she got two.” Jonouchi grumbled, watching as his wife popped a square of the chocolate into her mouth, munching happily on it. “One word about your weight and I will get angry!” 

“Promises promises…” Mai winked teasingly at him. 

Yami cleared his throat. 

They turned simultaneously to look at him and he sheepishly asked, “Should I leave you two alone?” 

The couple laughed, and he joined them, amused by the two who were quickly making very good potential future friends.

*-*-*-*-*-* 

It wasn’t hard, fitting in, Yami came to the conclusion. 

Domino was… beautiful. It was the peace and quiet that he never got on the bustling, noisy, crowded streets of Egypt. There was a certain tranquility to the place, along with luxury that was found only in certain places of Cairo. The streets of Domino weren’t exactly mute, but they lacked the tension, the heat and stuffiness he left behind. 

The weather too, seemed to welcome him, soothing and smoothing over whatever little crinkles of worry that may have lingered on his mind. He loved winters and hated the summers’ heat with a passion. Arriving in Japan at this time of the year had him a little uneasy at first, then he realized that Japan’s summer was anything but hot. It was lovely, pleasant, breezy, with plenty of sunshine that didn’t scorch or threaten a dark tan. It also promised a very cold winter, making Yami grin happily, looking forward to the chilly days and freezing nights ahead. 

He set up his little cozy home that overlooked the sea, ensuring that his desk and library were in the room with maximum sunlight during summer and largest view of rain or snow during winter. He was particularly excited about a window-side love-seat that he was sure was going to get a lot of use during the upcoming winter months. 

He went out and got himself an endless supply of notebooks and two packets of ball-point pens. He went grocery shopping and toured the neighborhood on foot, getting to know his way around the place and routes to and from the hospital. 

It was a lovely first weekend to spend at this new place. Peaceful and quiet. Jonouchi called him once to confirm his schedule and invited him to have dinner with the blonde couple, an invitation which he politely accepted. 

The calm stayed with him for the first hours of his first day at his new work. He waited outside the doctors’ locker rooms for Jonouchi, who told him to change into his scrubs and coat so he would take him on a tour. He showed him the way to the ER and the shortest route to take to go there, then passed by the Operating Rooms and scrubbing areas, the head of the surgery department’s office as well as the surgery ward and outpatient clinic. He was advised against the cafeteria’s club sandwich but was recommended to try the chicken salad. 

After making sure he left his number with the receptionist for consultations, and that he was properly introduced to all the nurses and assuring everyone that he was more than capable of taking the exact same amount of work everyone was handling, Yami sat in the room designated for him in the outpatient clinic and told the nurse he was ready to begin. 

And that was where the calmness that painted the past few days seemed to evaporate. 

It wasn’t exactly the intensity of the work or the incredible number of cases flooding in one after the other. God knew he was more used to crowded, stuffy examination rooms with lacking equipment and inhumane working conditions more than the comfort of a well-lit room with literally everything at the tip of his fingers, be it lab investigations, radiology services or pathology analyses. No it wasn’t the work conditions or its amount. It was the patients. 

It was so difficult, now that he thought he was finally a thousand miles away from people who looked down at him, for whatever reason, expecting him to fail until he has to literally kill himself proving that he would succeed. He’d had a lot of people telling him to simply ignore such people but it was very difficult trying to do his job, alleviate pains and cure maladies and soothe hurts when the very people he was trying to help curled their lips at him, staring at his slight, delicate form with contempt, before asking, “And exactly how old are you?” 

It wasn’t even the attitude that exhausted him despite the very comfortable and otherwise enjoyable working conditions. It was the exasperation he felt. It seemed he was wrong. People’s stone-age perception of what constituted a proper physician wasn’t just confined to his home country. It seemed to be an international problem. 

He hated it. And what he hated more, was that clinic work wasn’t his specialty; he was a trauma surgeon. His place wasn’t behind this desk, dealing with surgical maladies that had nothing to do with trauma or emergencies. It was a very dull part of his work that he hated with a passion. Sitting with dimwitted people—patients or their relatives—who had access to Google and confused it with his medical degrees. His work was in an emergency room and an operating theater. Not with these people. 

Still, it wasn’t something he wasn’t used to. Annoying but really, not the thought itself, but the energy he wasted fretting over the matter was a loss. He was more than up for the challenge and he knew that although a lot of his patients left the clinic grumbling unhappily, or stared with unmasked uncertainty as he ordered investigations or prescribed medications, most of them would follow his instructions and with time, they would come to realize that they were wrong about him. 

However, by the end of the day and after hours spent reassuring patients that yes, indeed, he was quite sure of his diagnoses, and no, he was not a student but actually graduated years ago and was a holder of multiple certificates and degrees in Surgery, his final patient walked in, took one look at him and asked, “You the new male nurse?” 

Yami smiled and forced his eye muscles not to roll his eyes at the words. The man was really tall, with a receding hairline and a large nose. He was wearing a scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes were wide, unblinking. Yami took a mental note of them, along with the clothes that hung loose on his frame, the slight tremors of his hands and the sweat beading on the man’s brow and above his lips. 

“No, Mr. Tanaka, I am the new surgeon,” he answered the patient’s question, gesturing towards the seat to his side. 

“Just out of high school, son?” the man laughed at him, ignoring his invitation to take a seat. 

Yami blinked slowly, “I assure you I am more than just a fresh graduate. They would not have hired me otherwise.” 

“Well, son, go call your senior. I won’t have you anywhere near me.”

Yami was silent for a moment as the older man sat down, crossing his legs rather impolitely and raising an eyebrow expectantly at him. 

“Mr. Tanaka, I am one of the surgeons working in the outpatient clinic today. Rest assured you are in more than capable hands and you will receive the best…” 

“I am not letting someone younger than my kid lay a finger on me.” 

“Alright…” Yami forced himself not to hurl something at the man’s stupid head, figuring that he really was tired and didn’t exactly feel up to arguing with yet another person questioning his age and skills. He reached for the intercom that linked his office to the nurse outside and spoke to her, “Amy, is Dr. Katsuya free at the moment?” 

“In a multiple trauma operating room, Dr. Motou; what seems to be the problem?” she answered him. 

“Mr. Tanaka would like one of _my seniors_ to examine him instead of me,” Yami answered her sarcastically, starting to tuck away his pen and cell phone into the pockets of his coat. Might as well get ready to leave since he was done for the day. 

There was silence on the other side of the intercom for a while, before Amy’s voice buzzed in, “Dr. Kaiba is coming in, Dr. Motou.” 

Before Yami could ask her anything else, the office’s door opened. Yami turned to look at the newcomer, taking in the very tall and slim figure that he possessed, along with the thick, soft brown hair that was combed neatly into place, but a wayward strand fell out of the orderly arrangement to fall into bright, intelligent blue eyes sitting in alabaster-white, sharp features. 

The expression he held was calming; smoothing over the sharp edges to the face and the intense, cold, cold blue eyes into a bearable mixture of stern dominance and a kind care-giving. Intense eyes that were quickly scanning him from top to bottom with an interested, almost amused look in them. Yet there was no contempt of any kind in them, more of amusement along with deep respect that made sure not to alienate him or set off any hostile feelings within him… 

It was so intriguing, this man’s bearing and the way he looked and the way his eyes shone with intelligence and mischief at the same time. 

He immediately piqued Yami’s interest. 

However, carefully remembering Mai’s warning and wanting to avoid a lot of unwanted attentions during his stay in Japan, Yami nonchalantly stood, holding out a hand, “Dr. Kaiba, very pleased to meet you.” 

“Hello, Yami,” the young man said with a smile, shaking his hand with his own very – _very_ —soft one. Yami raised an eyebrow very slightly at the way he skipped to first-name basis. “Just Seto, please.” 

Yami smiled a formal little grin, not commenting on the request, but pulled his hand out of the brunet’s grip that held his hand for a while longer than necessary. “I am glad you’re here. Mr. Tanaka has requested one of the senior staff to carry out his examination and I thought it wise not to go against his wishes…” he explained, turning to gather the rest of his things. “Please feel free to use my office. I will be along now…” 

And he stepped around his colleague’s body to leave, only to have his arm gripped gently, stopping him from leaving. 

“Yami, please wait,” Seto told him, and Yami stared questioningly at him. “Mr. Tanaka, if you don’t mind, I want Dr. Motou to advise me on how to proceed with your management plans.” Yami blinked in surprise, but said nothing as the brunet carried on, “You are Dr. Katsuya’s patient, aren’t you?” 

The older man was speechless, nodding mutely at Seto who sat where Yami was sitting a few moments ago, pulling another chair nearby and gesturing for Yami to sit. 

“Well, Dr. Motou just arrived from abroad and he has a far more impressive experience than mine and since Dr. Katsuya is otherwise occupied with trauma surgeries, it was decided that to give you the best care, Dr. Motou would follow-up with you,” Seto explained, opening the file while casually speaking. “You don’t mind if I take his opinion, do you? After all, you have let me examine you before, am I right?” 

“Y…Yes…” the man spluttered, staring at them both disbelievingly. 

“So, Yami,” Seto turned to him. Yami raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?” 

“I … I haven’t taken a history yet,” Yami uncertainly answered him. 

“Spot diagnosis.” 

Yami seethed, “I wasn’t aware I would be undergoing my med-school exams all over again.” 

“You’re not,” Seto answered with a smile that was tinted with utter mischief. The blue eyes shone with amusement that threatened to send Yami into a fit of rage once more but he realized that that was probably the young man’s intention. 

Forcing himself to calm down for the patient’s sake, he completely ignored the brunet, “Mr. Tanaka, I assume you were diagnosed with thyrotoxicosis about… 3 weeks ago?” 

The man stared at him with awe for a while, then said, defeated, “yes…” 

“You have been on a course of anti-thyroid drugs for the same duration, is that correct?” Yami asked, reading over the file which he took from Seto’s hands, making a note here and there before looking up as the man nodded. He closed the file, handing it over to Seto, smiling coldly, “Did I pass my exam, Dr. Kaiba?” 

“It’s Seto, and yes, with flying colors, I might add,” he replied, flashing a brilliant smile at him. 

Yami’s cold smile didn’t waver, unimpressed. 

He turned to the patient, inwardly scandalized by the unprofessional behavior they were displaying in front of him. “Mr. Tanaka, I apologize for this. I know you refused me having anything to do with your file altogether. I will excuse myself now…” 

He got up once more, but the old man told him, “It’s…err… it’s alright. I am sorry, son. Please let’s get this done. If Dr. Katsuya was the one assigning you to take his place, I am sure you will do just fine.” 

There was silence for a little while, before Seto stood, smiling at them both that charming, dazzling smile, “right then, I’ll leave you in Yami’s capable hands. Later, Yami.” 

And he departed the way he came, leaving the office in a deafening silence in his wake. Said silence persisted for a few seconds in which Yami got his anger under control and was not about to get up to grab the arrogant bastard by his hair. 

“Mr. Tanaka, I apologize once more…” he said, proceeding with a more thorough history taking and examination. 

He carefully recorded his positive findings into the man’s file while updating him thoroughly and honestly about his condition. 

“We will have to continue with the carbimazole for another three days, then you will return here once again the same time next week so we can perhaps start radioactive iodine treatment, before your surgery,” he explained, recapping his pen.

“But why? Dr. Katsuya said he would put my name onto the waiting list for surgery today…” 

Yami nodded, “I am aware he said that, but your thyroid hormone levels are still too high. If we carry out the surgery now, the handling of the gland during the procedure will release the hormone out into your blood. This will cause all of your symptoms to flare up… your eyes will be endangered, especially.” 

The older man did not seem very amused – or convinced—but nodded. “Alright, son…” 

“Dr. Katsuya will be available tomorrow, Mr. Tanaka. If you would like him to look at you once again tomorrow, I will schedule an appointment. Whatever it is the time you want to come over you can…” 

“No!” the man interrupted him quickly. Yami stared at him questioningly, so he added, “It’s alright. I’ll be here next week.” 

Yami smiled widely at him, “Alright… that’s all then…” 

“Thank you, son…” 

“I’m sorry once again for earlier. I must have made a horrible impression,” Yami repeated his earlier apology politely, getting up to shake hands with the man. 

“Oh no, I should be apologizing. Don’t worry… and if Dr. Kaiba vouches for you and your expertise, then there is no doubt that you are more than just good at what you do. Sorry once more.” 

“It’s alright,” Yami smiled. “I’ll see you next week, then, shall I?” 

Carefully hiding the seething anger at the fact that this man most probably didn’t agree to let him examine him except when someone else stepped in to assure him he was capable of doing his job, he let the man leave, tidying his desk methodically, trying to actively control his anger without flinging something or the other at the wall in frustration. 

He didn’t emerge from the office except when he was sure he wasn’t about to lose his temper or let such a disastrous day to start his stay in Domino dampen his spirits. Amy smiled brightly at him when he emerged from the office, taking off his coat and straightening his dark blue scrubs and running a hand tiredly through a stray lock of his hair. 

“Not bad for a first day, Dr. Motou,” she greeted. 

Yami snorted, “Just…don’t. I just had a terrible day!” 

Her smile widened, “Which makes it my job to tell you that perhaps it’s not as terrible as you think it is. You managed to work nine hours, five of them straight without a break, then four. You’ve managed to successfully manage all the patients and even that last one, he’s known to cause lots of troubles. I’d say you’ve done a fantastic job on your first day, Doctor.” 

Yami beamed at her, “Thank you. I needed that.” He took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly, then asked, “Do they stop questioning after a while…or…?” 

Amy shook her head, but before she could answer, a deep, familiar voice came from behind him, “Never…” 

Yami turned to face Seto, who emerged from the other office, his white coat draped in the crook of his slender arm, wearing the same colored scrubs as Yami. Only his made his impossibly blue eyes stand out even sharper and brighter than ever. 

Yami carefully controlled his facial expressions. 

“It’s good to know it is not personal, then,” he said, putting his stethoscope, vacuum coffee cup and the rest of his things inside his backpack. He made a mental note of the way the nurse was looking between them carefully, busying herself with things on the computer screen in front of her. 

Silence surrounded them for a few moments, in which Seto stared at him with an intense look that Yami would have called rude on anyone else. This was not rude, no. It was a look of such strength that could not have come from anyone else, perhaps. Without a blink, those blue orbs stared fixedly at him, pinning him beneath their gaze, observing anything and everything about him, on the outside and, for a moment that creeped him out a little, maybe on the inside as well…

He swallowed uncomfortably, turning to the nurse who was still studiously trying to act like she wasn’t paying attention. “Well, I’ll see you day tomorrow, then?”

“Alright, goodnight Dr. Motou,” she said with a smile, returning to whatever she was pretending to work on.

Yami could see her looking out of the corner of her eye at him. 

“Goodnight Dr. Kaiba. Very pleased to meet you,” he said, giving the brunet a tight smile and walking past him out of the reception of the outpatient surgery clinic and towards the exit. 

It wasn’t until he was in the parking area that he heard the deep voice that was becoming familiar to him now, saying from behind him as he took out his car keys, “Leaving without even saying a thank you?” 

He turned, plastering a very obviously fake smile, “For what, Dr. Kaiba?”

He was alarmed when the brunet stepped closer, so that they stood just a few inches apart. It was a blatant invasion of personal space that annoyed him to no end, but even more was the answer to his question.

“I did help you out with that last patient of yours…” the intense stare was back, while a long, slender arm snuck beside his ear, a strong, long-fingered hand placed on the body of his car so he was pinned between it and Seto’s taller, stronger body.

He hated that he had to stare up at this person, but height was never really one of his more prominent traits. He glared defiantly, matching the cold blue stare with the fire of his dark, crimson eyes. He raised an eyebrow, ignoring the shiver that ran up his spine at the incredibly close proximity, “It was unnecessary. If you believe I should be grateful, then I will say thank you only to appease you. However, it was unwanted and pointless help. Also, I do believe you are invading my personal space and that is highly inappropriate, Dr. Kaiba.”

A few moments of silence passed, then Seto laughed, pushing off the car’s body, his smile lighting up his entire face and once more, Yami was at a loss for words at the change that overtook the features that were so sharp just a few moments ago. It was now the complete opposite. The intensity faded, the blue eyes shining with amusement and mirth, while the lips that had curled in a smirk were now shaped into another one of those beautiful smiles. 

“You’re really something, aren’t you…? Why do you talk like that? So posh and proper,” the brunet asked playfully. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yami said, rolling his eyes and getting inside his car after opening it. 

“Call me Seto.” 

“Goodnight Dr. Kaiba,” Yami pointedly ignored the request, bringing the engine to a revving start.

The brunet leaned against the car once more to smile at him through the open window, “Let’s have dinner.” 

Yami stared at him for a moment, before snorting and shaking his head, “I’m not hungry. Goodnight, Dr. Kaiba…” 

Seto pushed off the car’s body, smirking and raising an eyebrow, “Goodnight, Yami…”

Tbc…

*-*-*-*-*-*


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t that he was never addressed on a first-name basis by colleagues before. God knew that not only was he called by his first name, but got several nicknames before. Every single workplace he attended he had no less than two who gathered their courage to ask him out. Not just once, even, but several times… hence it wasn’t even that he was never hit on by a coworker before. And the only serious relationship he ever had was with a male… so it was not even the fact that Seto Kaiba was of the same gender…

The fact was…Yami did not know why Seto Kaiba got on his nerves this way.

He did not know what the problem was. He was a professional. He had been dealing with such situations for longer than he could remember. He had more practice than a lot of people out there; letting admirers down, with anything ranging from a couple of gentle, politic words to –just once—a punch to the face.

In most cases, he rejected such attentions. He did not have the time for relationships. He was, to other people, perhaps, a bit too cruel on himself but he thought it was for the best. His work… his specialty needed that he stayed focused all the time. He did not have the time nor the ability to deal with the distractions of fretting over the typically dull problems of a personal life. He thought it emotionally exhausted him and drained him that he suffered physically from it, hence compromised his work and hence he distanced himself from such relationships.

Which, eventually, made him fret even more over Seto Kaiba and the paradox he presented.

His advances were unhampered by Yami’s aloof, uninterested replies. His spirits remained surprisingly high, not dampened by the way Yami refused to call him “Seto” as he requested, or by the “I am not hungry” he always received in reply to his dinner invitations.

On the other hand, and while his iron control of himself never wavered, Yami found himself getting more and more irritated by the brunet. His anger was becoming more difficult to control, eyes flashing in fury whenever the taller surgeon would downright ignore the way Yami rebuffed him time and time again.

It wasn’t about the way he was addressed either. The problem went far deeper. Every time Yami would seethe at Seto concerning the matter, the moment he turned to look elsewhere he would notice that a nurse would be staring at both of them. A nurse, a patient, the cafeteria worker… Jonouchi, once, was caught staring at them both.

And, to make things worse, after getting caught, people would look away quickly, and to Yami’s complete mortification, several times the person would smirk knowingly and whisper something to a nearby colleague.

The attention was unwanted. Yami knew that it would cause tongues to wag, if they haven’t already started. And the problem was that they were going to wag based on nonexistent facts.

It was frustrating.

So was work, so far.

The patients were difficult to deal with. Perhaps even more so than the ones he had to deal with in Egypt. At least back there the patients, after skeptically questioning his age, they would listen to his advice eventually. Here, his age was not only questioned but every single treatment option was picked apart and he had to spend extra time and effort explaining why, how, when and where every procedure was to take place. And even then, twice more, Seto had to step in to vouch for his expertise and Jonouchi, once.

It was making it difficult for him to start on his thesis. He didn’t even start working on the protocol for his work and it has already been two weeks since he arrived. It was starting to stress him out.

“Dr. Motou, please do the rounds with Dr. Hiroto; Dr. Kaiba called in and said he would be late today,” the nurse’s voice cut through his annoyed, stressed thoughts. He put down his notebook where he just started penning down the thesis title and objectives. He had just finished his clinic hours and was waiting for the object of his annoyance to arrive so they could start working on their combined research together while their shift dwindled to its last few hours.

He recapped his pen and closed the notebook, grabbing his coat and stethoscope. “Did he say why?” he asked, taking the tablet where all the patient-related information was stored, from her.

It was still difficult for him to adjust to the fact that he no longer had to carry a ton-load of folders, papers and other heavy things in order to keep up with his patients’ condition and their charts. Everything was stored onto the tablet that was half the size of an A4 paper. It was the most advanced form of archiving he ever came across. It was something that promised an easier life in Japan; that he did not have to search through files one by one to obtain his patients’ medical history and follow-up data.

“Students’ exams, Dr. Motou,” she winked evilly at him and he laughed a little at the way she seemed to revel in whatever misery Kaiba seemed to be inflicting on the poor souls while walking beside her towards the inpatient ward where his junior resident was waiting to start the rounds with him.

He was a tall young man with dark brown hair which he had styled into a classic fade and dark hazel eyes that gleamed intelligently. He was dressed in the navy blue colored scrubs that signified that he was staying in the inpatient ward today and had his stethoscope wrapped around his neck. He was extremely neat and tidy, Yami made that observation when he first met him and later discovered that the tall young man had a thing for cleanliness and order that was translated into every aspect surrounding him; starting with his attire, which was neater than most other residents, to his work, where his stitches were a piece of art that rivaled those of the most skilled of plastic surgeons.

Currently, he was casually leaning against the wall flirting obviously with one of the nurses who stood restocking a dressing cart and embarrassing himself endlessly especially since she seemed to have zero interest in his advances.

“Dr. Hiroto…shall we?” he said after clearing his throat in amusement and suppressing a laugh at the little jump his young colleague gave, turning around to face him with a blush on his face and a grateful look from the beautiful nurse. Oh yes, she definitely wasn’t interested.

“Yes, yes, Dr. Motou,” Honda Hiroto said, ears red as he stepped away from the wall and fell into a long stride beside him.

Yami waited until they were out of earshot and asked, “What happened to last week’s girl?”

“I am a free spirit Dr. Motou, I roam the world distributing my love to all young beautiful maidens who are deprived of…”

“Oh _do_ shut up, Honda…” Yami laughed, shaking his head. “And slow down a bit, I have to run to keep up with you.”

“As you wish, sensei…” the kid said, slowing down at Yami’s request. His face had broken out into a wide toothy smile, his narrow eyes narrowing even further and little laughter wrinkles appearing by the sides of his mouth and eyes…

 _Sensei_. The residents commonly referred to him as sensei and Yami couldn’t get over the image of Master Shifu in Kung-Fu Panda, dressed in a white coat carrying a ‘Yami Motou, M.D. Trauma Surgery’ embroidered on its breast pocket.

He smiled.

“What?!” Honda exclaimed, raising a hand to the back of his head.

“Nothing… I am having troubles accepting this ‘Sensei’ you people throw at me,” he explained, pushing the door open after knocking and interrupting whatever protest Honda was going to spout out at him. “Good afternoon,” he greeted the patient cheerfully.

Honda immediately abandoned his easygoing attitude and took out his own tablet, starting to quickly rattle off their first patient’s history, examination findings and the latest lab results. Yami listened carefully to him, while flipping through the previous lab test results and comparing them with the new ones.

It was a familiar process. They would visit each patient in the ward, one by one. The resident doctor would update him with a brief summary on each case, its history, examination and lab done as well as any other imaging studies. Then they would proceed onto examining the patient again, from head to toe, noting down together any changes, ordering more lab tests if necessary. Then he would add new information obtained to the file. His role was to give out commands, explaining them to Honda one by one so that, as a resident, he would learn how to proceed with each new case. It was a system much like the one he had back home.

The only difference from what he left back in Egypt was that the wards were separated into pre-surgery section and post-surgery recovery ward.

It wasn’t _exactly_ the only difference, a voice at the back of his mind reminded gently. Here he was a senior staff member not the junior resident. Here, he and Honda both spoke like colleagues. The attitude was much more relaxed and he enjoyed that a lot and hoped that the exchange of information between him and Honda was much smoother than any other rounds done in Egypt back when he had been a junior. He hoped that he was easy to approach and made sure that he let the residents know that the only thing that could make him difficult to deal with would be mistakes made due to malpractice of all kinds and not ones due to lack of knowledge.

It wasn’t his favorite part of the job if truth be told. After all, long rounds in patient wards didn’t exactly hold the adrenaline rush that fueled his passion for trauma surgery. But it was part of the job and he didn’t exactly have a choice but to suck it up and do it. His specialty was mainly General Surgery and unless he redid his residency years in Emergency Medicine, it wouldn’t matter how many degrees he obtained in his subspecialty, Trauma Surgery. He would always be a surgeon and hence, he absolutely had to do rounds in the wards. But to be completely honest, doing the rounds with Honda wasn’t so bad. His notes were neat and tidy, his history taking precise, his examination findings on point and the kid was incredibly proactive when it came to lab tests.

Time that usually dragged on for what seemed like eternity passed rather quickly. He and Honda were almost finished with both sections of the ward when they found Seto walking in with a bright smile on his face.

He looked positively elated.

Yami’s eyebrow twitched in irritation, out of instinct. It was rather difficult not to react negatively. The brunet wasn’t exactly being likable.

“Yami!” said brunet exclaimed, looking genuinely excited for a reason Yami couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Dr. Kaiba,” he greeted coolly, walking towards the last room left. “Pleasant exam, I suppose? Done torturing the bright new minds of the future of the medical field?”

“I wish I could say I am done; I gave three of them a fail. They will be back again,” Seto replied smartly, eyes narrowing as he stared at him from top to bottom as they stood in front of the door. “Call me Seto…”

Yami rolled his eyes, changing his mind about berating this insufferable man for making the lives of students hell. There was no point in it. He turned and glared at Honda who was ogling at the exchange, opening the door after knocking, “Come, Honda, let us proceed.”

Honda rushed after him into the room, “Yes, sensei…”

They greeted their patient, Yami listening to the history and they finished their examination, Yami upping the dose of antibiotics and anti-edematous agents, before heading out of the room. The three stood in front of the nurse station, Yami adding a few remarks to Honda's history taking on some of the cases and explaining a few points related to basic physiology that the kid was enquiring about during their rounds.

And while they stood, Yami speaking and Honda listening and Seto simply watching Yami like a hawk, Yami’s phone rang, making him jump a little, earning him a laugh from Seto, to which he replied with a glare while answering, “Yami Motou speaking.”

“Dr. Motou, thanks for taking my call,” the emergency resident’s voice drifted over to him, clear and calm. Yami smiled a little, listening as the young man continued, “I have a case of an 18 year old male, presenting with abdominal pain, query appendicitis with CT inconclusive. Complaint started one day ago, with a progressive course and was accompanied by vomiting three times and one incident of non-bloody diarrhea twelve hours ago. Now he has significant sharp right lower quadrant pain and he is feverish and looks very ill. I am calling to admit the patient to your care. Would you like to know anything else about this patient?”

“What’s his temperature and white cell count, Ryuji?” he asked, motioning for Honda to follow him to the elevators.

“Thirty-nine-point-five degrees and Thirty…” the answer came promptly and he raised his eyebrow.

“Alright, thanks, Ryuji. I am sending Honda over right now…” he said, lowering the phone and turning to his junior resident who was expectantly looking at him. “Appendicitis. Abdominal pain for one day, diarrhea once twelve hours ago and three times vomiting. CT inconclusive. But the patient looks ill, has sharp right lower quadrant pain, high grade fever and has a white cell count of 30. How would you like to proceed?”

Honda stayed silent for a few moments, then said, “I’d prep for laparoscopic appendectomy.”

Yami nodded, “Alright, but aren’t you concerned with the white cell count and the temperature?” Honda hesitated and Yami smiled. “Go on, why do you think the temperature flew like that?”

“Err…I am not sure…” the brunet hesitated.

“No, think about it a little,” Yami encouraged, leaning against the wall beside the elevator, looking up at Honda, pointedly ignoring Seto completely as he stood behind the junior resident staring intently at Yami.

“It could be from the inflammation,” Honda hesitantly suggested.

“It could…but most cases of appendicitis present with low grade fever and dull aching pain, first central then becoming localized. And the white cell count usually doesn’t exceed twenty. What do you think happened here and what would we be afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Well usually this happens with a ruptured appendix… but the CT showed no signs of rupture…” Honda hesitated.

“I didn’t say there were no signs of rupture on CT. I said, inconclusive,” he smiled, pushing away from the wall. “So? What do we think of?”

“Perforation and peritonitis, causing the rise in body temperature and cell count,” Honda nodded.

“And intestinal obstruction,” Yami added.

Honda paused a little. “It doesn’t have to be that,” he said.

“Because it’s not,” came Seto’s voice. Yami rolled his eyes at him. “You are so dramatic. A simple case of appendicitis and you turn it into intestinal obstruction? Honestly, Yami…”

“The patient has intestinal obstruction, Dr. Kaiba, I have no doubt about it,” Yami coldly addressed him, then turned to Honda. “Head over to the emergency room and have them do a simple erect abdominal X-ray but not before inserting a nasogastric tube and suctioning the stomach contents.”

“Alright, sensei,” Honda said, hurriedly leaving, obviously not wanting to watch his seniors arguing in front of him.

“And do tell me what the X-ray shows, won’t you?” Yami said, watching him leave and getting an affirmative nod, before turning his gaze back towards Seto and glaring.

“Scary.”

 _That infernal bastard_ , Yami thought to himself, glaring for a few more moments at him, then deciding to be an adult and walk away. Unfortunately, Seto seemed to have another plan, because he followed him towards his office.

“Why would it be intestinal obstruction?”

“Oh, _now_ you want to ask me like a grown adult?” Yami snapped, walking into his office and trying hard not to slam the door in the brunet’s annoyingly handsome face. “Wasn’t it, ‘oh you are so dramatic’ a few moments ago? Or is it because we have no audience now? Honestly, just _grow up_ , Dr. Kaiba.”

“Seto,” he insisted, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“ _Dr. Kaiba,_ ” Yami repeated, pausing from where he stood behind the desk, glaring at the brunet. He ignored the ‘ooh, scary,’ that Seto was mouthing in front of him while taking a seat in front of the desk, and added, “This is highly unprofessional.”

“Why would it be intestinal obstruction?” Seto repeated, placing one leg over the other and leaning back in his chair, letting the tips of his long, slender, oddly attractive fingers cross before his handsome features as he stared up in amusement at the irate Yami.

“Because it is the most probable conclusion to his presentation, Dr. Kaiba,” Yami coldly replied, taking a seat behind the desk. “And I would like to ask you not to belittle my medical opinion in front of the junior residents. It is just unethical and I will not stand for it.”

“It cannot be intestinal obstruction. The patient passed stool,” Seto ignored Yami’s remark, thoughtfully shaking his head and staring at the corner of the room.

“Twelve _hours_ ago,” Yami shot back at him irritably, getting out the papers he had been working on before he started the rounds. He set them out in front of him, then noticed that Seto didn’t question his reply and found him staring at him questioningly. “Twelve hours ago could be considered ‘early diarrhea’. Absolute constipation starts after the bowels have completely been emptied.” He explained, satisfied he had shut the brunet up effectively with his explanation.

“Maybe.”

Apparently not.

“You’re being a child. And for your information, I will not stand for you questioning my instructions to the juniors. I will not interfere with your cases as long as you don’t interfere with mine.”

“Why do you talk like that?” Seto asked, amused.

“Like what?” Yami asked irritably.

“Like you walked out of a dictionary…”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Yami bit back and pushed the papers closer to Seto. “I have been working on the protocol today morning. Please take a look and tell me what you think.”

Seto lazily pushed the papers away. “Let’s discuss it over dinner.”

“I’d rather dine in hell with the devil himself,” came the unimpressed reply, making the brunet throw his head back, laughing with joy that had him raise an eyebrow. “I just don’t understand you, Dr. Kaiba,” he sighed as the bout of laughter passed and he waited until he held the amused blue eyes with his own crimson ones, adding, “I cannot stress how important this degree is to me. Yet here you are trying your very hardest to ruin it. I don’t understand why but if this childishness continues, I will have to request resuming without you and I will carry out the necessary research on my own.”

“You’re too serious…” Seto replied, his gorgeous lips that distracted Yami way too much to be comfortable, twisting deliciously into a pout. He zoned out for a few seconds, too focused on trying not to let himself imagine how those rosy petals would feel, after which he shook himself mentally as Seto flipped through the papers, obviously commenting on topics he penned down, “…your interest in laparoscopic procedures.”

Yami blushed a little. “I beg your pardon?”

Seto smirked lightly and Yami felt like hurling the paperweight at his stupid head.

“I asked is there a particular reason behind your interest in laparoscopic procedures? See? I am being all serious and you are the one distracted.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and kept up a mantra of ‘I am too mature for this’. “I’ve done my fair share of exploratory laparotomy procedures in Egypt. I think I am ready to move onto laparoscopes, since that field is defective there.” It was the only way to proceed, he decided. Simply ignore the taunts, rise above them and respond appropriately.

But obviously, this was not going to be as easy as it sounds in his head.

“I don’t like any of these.”

Yami saw red.

“Well, if you don’t like them, I suggest _you_ come up with something _better_ ,” he snapped, getting up and leaning over the desk to snatch his papers back from the infuriating piece of shit seated so calmly before him.

To his surprise, Seto moved so swiftly, grabbing his wrist and standing up from his seat as well. Yami hardly stifled a gasp of shock that tried escaping his mouth at the sudden motion that took him completely by surprise. The brunet had risen up to his full—frankly very impressive— height in front of the desk, leaning towards Yami while still holding his wrist securely. There was a smirk playing on those lips, a mischievous gleam brightening the endless cerulean orbs that stared so deeply at him from beneath the brown silky locks that fell onto them, losing their usually orderly arrangement towards the end of their long twelve-hour shift.

Yami struggled to regain composure, finding himself too close to the brunet. Close enough to smell the subtle middle and bottom tones of whatever perfume Seto was wearing. A part of his brain registered the bold muskiness, wrapped tightly in a perfect splash of geranium and mandarins. Immediately, he felt a faint flush rushing through his body and he fought with all his might not to lose control of his reactions but it proved to be extremely difficult, especially as Seto’s chuckle resonated through his ears, his hot breath hitting the fine hairs next to his ear. His body was sent into overdrive as each nerve ending seemed to be hyper-aware of the brunet standing so close.

“You look absolutely ravishing when you’re angry.”

Yami scowled. He needed exactly a few moments to get his body under his control again. He drew back, pulling his hand back from the surprisingly gentle grasp it was held in and crossed his arms, glaring at the infuriating person before him. “Your behavior is exceedingly unbecoming,” he admonished.

To his annoyance, that inspired another laugh. “Seriously, stop it…you’re making me laugh.”

Yami was about to physically harm him when an ecstatic voice coming from behind the brunet made him pause, “I’m glad you’re both getting along so well…”

“Hardly,” Yami snapped, too angry to make an effort to be nice anymore, as Jonouchi seemed to choose that exact moment to walk in, obviously taking only Seto’s words as indication to what exactly is going on. It made him even more irate to see his blond superior greeting Seto with a high five.

“I’m here, boys, you can go home now!” the blond said, grinning excitedly at them both.

“There’s still forty-five minutes to the end of the shift…” Seto pointed out. He then grinned evilly, asking, “Did Mai kick you out of the house?”

“Oi, Kaiba…shut up!”

Seto completely ignored him, turning to Yami. “An early end to the day. Let’s go have a cup of coffee and decide where to have dinner.”                                                                 

Before he could vehemently stress over his previous answer that he would rather dine in hell than with Seto, his phone rang. After glaring heatedly at both Jonouchi and Seto, he glanced at the caller ID, before answering, “Yes, Honda, what have you got?”

Honda’s excited voice drifted over from the other side, “Sensei! You were right!” the hero-worship in the breathless voice almost made him laugh.

“Was I? I am glad, otherwise Dr. Kaiba would never have let me hear the end of it.” Yami said, still glaring at Seto who winked at him behind Jonouchi’s back and sent an airborne kiss. “Did the X-ray show air under diaphragm?”

“Yes and multiple air-fluid levels, five and I am doubting there is also a sixth; I’ll confirm with the radiologist. I started him on a drip-and-suck and getting his admission papers ready.”

“Great job, kid. I will be there in five minutes so we can discuss what we should do next,” Yami praised, smiling and lowering the phone and staring at it after receiving an ‘alright’ from Honda.

“Don’t tell me you were right!”

His smile instantly vanished and he turned back to glare at Seto, who was grinning at him in amusement. “I would like you to stop being a child and trust my expertise to diagnose a simple case of appendicitis complicated by perforation and intestinal obstruction. If you cannot trust my judgment on something that simple, then I’m afraid we are wasting our time working on a PhD thesis together, Dr. Kaiba.”

At that, Jonouchi noticed that there seemed to be anything but getting along going on. The tension was palpable in the room so he stepped between them, staring up at Seto, asking, “What happened? Kaiba don’t tell me you’re giving him a hard time, you complete idiot! He only just arrived and he doesn’t know how much of an asshole you could be.”

“Me?” Seto asked with an innocent expression. Yami bristled. “I would _never_ …”

Jonouchi obviously didn’t buy it for a second. “Honestly, stop being an ass and grow up…” he groaned, frowning at him.

He then turned to Yami, asking, “Seriously, Yami, if this guy is harassing you, tell me and we can find someone else if you’re not comfortable working with him. It is more than okay and I am sure I can speak to someone, pull some strings and get it done.”

Suddenly, there was very heavy silence hanging like a thick curtain over the room.

Yami and Seto exchanged looks and Yami just knew that his pride would never allow such a thing to take place. Requesting a different thesis partner under such circumstances meant that he was losing some kind of battle of wills with this infuriating young man. The way Seto’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly and the light smirk playing on his lips suggested exactly what the brunet was thinking, that if he walked away, he would be losing some kind of an undeclared battle.

He never backed away from challenges.

His eyes narrowed and he replied to the question hanging in the air waiting as expectantly as Seto, “That will not be necessary. I am sure Dr. Kaiba will act in a most professional manner. I was just making sure he knew that I do not like interferences in my decision making and that he may only offer his help when he sees that I am incapable of making correct decisions towards giving optimum patient care.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Then…

“Why does he speak like that?” Seto asked, looking at Jonouchi in bewilderment.

Yami rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, heading towards the elevators that would take him to the emergency department. To his annoyance, Seto was following him again. He ignored him, waiting until he got inside the elevator with him then pressed the ground button.

“I wasn’t questioning your skills.” It was spoken calmly, in a low voice from behind him.

“Thanks for the clarification. You could have fooled me,” he dryly replied.

“I mean it,” Seto insisted. Yami turned to look up at him and he thought he saw genuine seriousness in those blue eyes. “I was doing it to annoy you. You blush so perfectly when you’re annoyed.”

Yami rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour and turned them towards the elevator doors that dinged open, “Glad I could amuse your majesty so much,” he remarked, walking out and striding towards his destination.

Honda was standing next to Ryuji Otogi, the emergency medicine resident on call today. He had long black hair that he tied into a ponytail, revealing the multiple piercings placed in his ear. His eyes were an electrifying shade of bottle-green and he didn’t try to lessen the intensity in them in any way, carefully surrounding them with heavy kohl that looked just right on his exotic features. He looked the exact opposite of the prim and proper Honda, both bringing out the differences in the other. They had their heads together as they pored over some documents. Yami observed them for a moment as they stood huddled closely together, Ryuji calmly pointing something out and Honda’s ears turning slightly red as he made a correction in his notes. A small light of recognition flickered in his brain and he smiled as he made his presence known by clearing his throat.

“Dr. Motou,” Ryuji greeted him with a smile. “I thought Honda was just annoying me when he asked for an X-Ray. Nice catch…”

“I understand this is rare here in Japan but Egypt had a case of intestinal obstruction coming in every few hours,” Yami explained, taking Honda's notes to look over them. “We had to learn the hard way how to diagnose such cases using minimal information. If you want, you can join Honda while I explain how to spot diagnose these cases…” he explained, quickly scanning the instructions to the nurses that Honda had written in neat, tidy handwriting. “Good job, Honda, starting him on cefuroxime and metronidazole. I need you to also start him immediately on another 500cc of ten percent dextrose after he’s done with the ringer solution because his random blood sugar is less than 70…”

He managed to completely forget about Seto as the last hour of their shift brought in a burn victim with laryngeal edema and he had to perform a cricothyroidotomy on him. And it was just five minutes to the end of the shift when a gunshot abdominal wound patient was rushed in.

Some things never changed, after all, he thought as he finished briefing Jonouchi over the phone about that last patient. The last hour or two of any shift were always the hardest, where things got most hectic and cases flooded in with varying levels of difficulty. It didn’t matter which part of the world he was located, obviously.

He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing them. He was exhausted and he couldn’t wait to go home and get some sleep. He walked out of the hospital building, happily enjoying the soft, cool night breeze as he headed towards his car, fishing for his keys in the pocket of his backpack.

“Leaving without even saying good night?” the voice came from behind him.

He rolled his eyes before turning. “Good night, Dr. Kaiba.” He was being patient. Smiling professionally and turning back to his route towards his car, adding sarcastically, “It seems that you always find one thing or the other that I failed to say before heading home, Dr. Kaiba. Maybe we should set up a checklist together and go over it before the end of our shifts.”

The brunet fell into step beside him with ease and Yami grumbled in his head at the unfair height difference.

“The interns love you,” Seto remarked, a thoughtful look on his face.

Yami smiled, “That makes me happy. I don’t want to be that horrible senior who makes their lives hell.”

“They respect you endlessly,” came another remark and Yami paused in his tracks.

Seto continued walking, then realized that Yami had stopped. He turned to stare at him questioningly.

“Why are you telling me this?” Yami suspiciously asked.

Seto smiled. Yami stared, observing the way the soft tapering corners of that beautiful mouth curled. It was the first time he noticed but there was a small dimple buried in the middle of a quite gorgeous laughter line in that insanely handsome face. He swallowed and forced himself to focus.

“I am telling you this because I really wasn’t trying to belittle your medical opinion. And no matter what I say in front of the kids, they will always respect you.”

Yami blinked at the unexpectedly serious note the taller young man spoke with. He nodded once slowly, smiled and resumed walking, “Alright.”

Once again, they fell into step and silence enveloped them for a while until they reached car.

He stood beside the driver’s seat door, still searching for the keys that seemed to disappear within the black hole that was his bag. Ever since his books and belongings required him to take a bag with him everywhere, he swore every time that the next time he kept his keys, he would put them in a separate pocket so he wouldn’t have to search and search for them but that never actually happened. It was so annoying.

When he finally fished them out, he felt warmth standing flush behind him. He turned to find Seto standing a mere footstep away and leaning towards him.

“Yes, Dr. Kaiba, can I help you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and staring up at him, taking a step back, only to realize he was trapped between the Seto’s larger frame and his car. His lips curled in annoyance, realizing how much of a déjà-vu the situation unfurling at the moment seemed to inspire and at the fact that Seto seemed adamant not to let any friendly feelings last between them for more than five minutes.

“Call me Seto…” the brunet lazily said, placing one hand on the car’s frame, eyeing him appreciatively.

“I want to go home,” Yami tiredly responded. He was at the end of his patience; tired—exhausted actually—and the mental strain of trying to deal with this maturely taking its toll on his already aching body.

“Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“No, Dr. Kaiba. I am not hungry…” he replied, the response now customary and stubbornness fueling the insistence that seemed to be the only language Seto spoke. “Please step aside so I can head home. It’s been a long shift.”

Seto grinned and leaned even closer. Yami had to fight with all his willpower not to bolt at this invasion of his personal space, especially when those soft-looking lips drifted closer to his ear, whispering, “Call me Seto and I’ll let you leave.” He stayed still, ignoring the proximity and trying to control his body. “You don’t have to be so uptight, Yami…just call me Seto and I will let you leave.”

“This is absurd…” he breathed, not trusting his voice to rise above a whisper because he knew it would betray him.

“I can stay here the whole night…”

The gust of hot breath against his ear was sending him into uncontrollable shivers. If this went on, the brunet would definitely notice.

He sighed. There was no other way around it. He had to concede this one time. “Seto…would you please do me the honor of backing off so I could go home?”

“Mmm… see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the brunet pushed back, smiling at him. “It sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue with that accent.”

“You can go to hell,” Yami responded, unlocking his car. “I am glad to have been a part of your childish game tonight, Dr. Kaiba. I am sure you shall sleep soundly tonight after winning this epic battle over the title of the most juvenile citizen in Domino.” He ranted, almost to himself as took his place in the driver’s seat, placed his backpack beside him on the passenger’s seat and added as he reached for the door to close it, “And I _don’t_ have an accent.”

That low, rumbling laugh bubbled from the insanely attractive pit of Seto’s chest and Yami swallowed, hearing it from behind the closed window. “So, so uptight, baby… loosen up a little…” Seto responded, leaning on the car door after Yami rolled open the window. “Or do you need help?”

“Now we are on pet name basis? Sweet…” Yami sarcastically remarked, buckling his seatbelt and revving the car’s engine. “Do remember to come up with a suitable protocol for our thesis, since mine didn’t live up to your majesty’s expectations…”

“Alright mom.”

“What ever happened to ‘baby’?”

Seto smiled, pushing back from the car. “I will thoroughly enjoy watching that uptight façade crumble, Yami…”

Yami smirked up at him, “Dream on, Dr. Kaiba. I will be happy to disappoint you… consider it a challenge.”

And he drove away, leaving the brunet standing in the parking lot with a bright gleam in his blue eyes.

Tbc…

*-*-*-*-*-*


	3. Chapter 3

“Let’s try again, shall we? Good morning, Baby!” 

“Still improper.”

“Still uptight. I thought we had an agreement!”

“’Baby’ hardly falls under the category of professional conduct, Dr. Kaiba.”

There was a sigh.

“Call me Seto.”

“I really don’t have time for this,” Yami sing-songed the familiar response.

“You treat me so terribly my dear,” Seto sighed once again.

Yami shook his head, against his will a smile spreading across his features.

They stood side by side outside the operating room. They were scrubbing up. Seto’s persistence was actually starting to amuse him after irritating him for the past month or so. He was a bit alarmed that Seto began to grow on him. Just a bit. He no longer seethed at bad jokes or silly taunts at inopportune times—the resuscitation room, for example—and it was just fun, this teasing banter between them.

Aside from the slight irritation at getting used to his colleague’s less-than-subtle advances, everything seemed to settle down for him. The flurry of unrest that surrounded the first month of his arrival was dying down to a familiar routine of twelve hour shifts, clinic hours and operating room lists. He quickly adapted to the workload, the patients, the residents and the surgeries related to their thesis—which ended up being related to laparoscopic procedures anyway.

Today was the first time he scrubbed up as the main surgeon. Seto usually did that, and he acted as an assistant surgeon. He observed for two surgeries, then Seto asked him to scrub up with him on the third, where he held the camera for the brunet as he carried out the procedure. It was now a week and eight laparoscopies later and Yami was so ready to take control of the trocars, he was buzzing with excitement.

He always loved working with his hands… perhaps not exactly _always_ ; during his final years he had thought seriously of internal medicine, especially tropical medicine, to spend his residency and continue with it as his specialty. Then, after graduating and during his one year internship where they did rotations in every major branch’s department, he discovered that he was just too good at physical skills. Not only that, he enjoyed them with passion that surprised even him. Soon, he couldn’t stand being in rotations that involved sitting behind a desk, writing prescriptions with the only thing he did with his hands being placing a stethoscope on the patient.

He could trace it all back to one single moment. It was the start of the year, he had just graduated as the eightieth of his hundred-fifty-students batch—nothing too special, yet not too bad. He was on call in the pediatrics department, but there was civil unrest in the country at that time and they called everyone to help out in the emergency room. There was too many patients and too few caregivers.

It was the first time he ever held mosquito forceps and loaded a needle of prolene onto it. He had only watched someone else stitching up wounds and knew it in theory but never actually did it. It was the first time he aligned the wound’s edges together…the first time he injected the local anesthesia into the wound, the first time to approximately determine the middle of it…the first time his wrist flicked lightly, digging the needle into skin, working quickly to pull it out, digging it into the other side and pulling. His hands very, very steady as he looped the blue prolene around itself, tying and retying it to form perfect knots which he arranged into neat lines on one side of the wound.

It was a euphoria that took him by surprise and stayed with him every single time a large accident came into the emergency room.

So, to finally be able to dig his hands in and work on this himself…oh yes, he was very excited.

He turned the water off with a push with his hips and walked with his arms raised in front of him to the operating room. He turned and pushed the double doors open with his shoulder, just as Seto followed suit, evilly asking, “Nice hip action… dance a lot?”

“Zumba, during my free time,” he retorted cheekily, the reply rolling off his tongue with ease and lightheartedness that amazed him just mere moments after and he paused just slightly, then resumed tying his gown.

Usually he did not engage in such conversations. Usually, there was always something that stopped him. Sometimes, it was lack of time because he was getting paperwork done for this patient or that, or running after his professors to complete a thesis. Some other times, it was because it was a train wreck waiting to happen and he could see it miles away. Many times, he wasn’t interested…

He was very picky… he was well aware of that. But he knew firsthand how disastrously things could end when he got too attached and he did not care for a repeat show, thanks a lot. Better safe than sorry.

He sighed imperceptibly. He was saved from whatever comeback Seto had as they finished putting on their protective gear by the patient coming in and the anesthesiologist started putting her to sleep. He and Seto took their place in the seats beside the bed. Yami received the scalpel from the assisting nurse, waiting for the go from the anesthesiologist.

Everything but the view of the laparoscope melted to the back of his mind. Within minutes, he had made his small incisions, the ports positioned in place and the instruments all inserted and the abdominal cavity inflated with the carbon dioxide. Seto’s steady hand provided an excellent view for him to start the procedure and they adjusted the patient into position, letting the bowels fall away from the field.

He had done this before back in Egypt. But never with such accurate and reliable equipment. Here he allowed himself to truly let go of any worries that the camera’s light might go out, the diathermy cable not working, the graspers not holding onto the soft, slippery tissues. Quickly and efficiently, he exposed and dissected the adhesions that blocked his view of the gallbladder he was supposed to remove and once he saw its hilum and obtained a clear critical view, he carefully identified the cystic duct and artery and started applying his clips. Once he was done, he inserted the retrieval pouch through the umbilical trocar and placed the removed bladder in it, pulling it out of the patient’s body and sent it for pathology analysis. He then returned the patient into position and did the final inspection and washout.

Only as he and Seto were placing the final stitches to the small incisions where the instruments were placed, did he find out that this took him only forty-five minutes, a whole quarter of an hour earlier than Seto’s—and the whole department’s— best time. The nurses all fawned over him, to Seto’s complete amusement. They always did love a quick surgeon.

“Now you’ve gone and stolen all my fans,” the brunet grumbled half-heartedly.

“It is not a competition,” Yami said, holding up the edges of the thread so Seto could cut it neatly with the scalpel.

“You’ve made it one, Motou,” Seto replied in mock seriousness. “You _dare_ break my record?!”

“It is _not_ a competition,” Yami repeated in bored tones, raising his eyebrows and pausing for a moment to stare sternly at him. He placed another stitch, wrist moving quickly and efficiently. “I wasn’t aware they were timing us,” he added tutting slightly behind the mask he was wearing.

“We time all procedures, Dr. Motou,” the anesthesiologist commented, a look of adoration on her face. Yami gave her a smile behind the mask which he was sure extended to his eyes and thought of his colleagues back in Egypt who had similar looks on their faces when he finished a surgery quickly; anesthesiologists loved a quick surgeon more than nurses did. “It’s hard to imagine that you say you don’t have enough experience when it comes to lap-procedures.”

“I really don’t. Maybe it’s the instruments’ reliability that made this quick. I usually did this without proper field, or proper inflation or graspers. Having reliable equipment always helps,” he explained, holding out the thread for Seto to cut. He pulled the knot to the side, arranging it next to its companions, running the mosquito forceps over them one final time to make sure they are nice and snug, then nodded to the nurse so she can start cleaning the patient and applying dressings to the incisions as he and Seto moved off their seats.

“You’re too humble,” Seto remarked once they stripped off the protective equipment back to their light-blue scrubs.

“I just don’t like such petty contests,” Yami explained. He had seen what making a competition out of medicine did to patients and doctors alike. The former grew too big of an ego and hence, the prior usually…well, they sometimes died as a result. And since he suffered too badly because of overly inflated egos of superiors and didn’t want to inflict the same torment on _his_ students, and because he didn’t exactly want his patients to die, he always dismissed trivial competitions and unnecessary rivalries.

“Oh come on, no need to be so uptight about this…” Seto groaned as they both stopped in front of the elevators and he pressed the call button. Yami looked at him, obviously affronted and was about to protest that statement when the brunet added, “Take some credit, Yami, please…you were pretty impressive back in there. I’ve never seen more stable hands.”

He blinked, pausing the tirade about to come out of his mouth. He looked at the elevator’s doors as they slid open and walked in, wondering how to respond to that, since really, he was just human. He preened a little under the genuinely admiring expression in those lovely blue eyes. He ignored Seto, trying to will his slightly reddening ears to submission. He kept a neutral face on as the doors closed once more.

“Let’s celebrate…have dinner, maybe?”

He chuckled a little, shaking his head in affectionate exasperation.

He jumped slightly when he found himself being gently pressed against the corner of the elevator by the heat of Seto’s body which was now familiar, considering how many times his personal space has already been invaded by him. To his alarm, before he could react to the close proximity, the brunet’s hand reached for the red emergency-stop button and tapped it.

“What are you doing?” he asked in panic, as the elevator came to a surprisingly gentle halt. He didn’t do very well in closed spaces.

He turned to look up at Seto who was smiling predatorily down at him. He was alarmed at their closeness. He could see every detail of Seto’s face so up close. His skin was so, so white, it looked like snow that he once saw falling in Switzerland when he was visiting for a general surgery conference. It was so perfect from this close angle, he thought it was a little unfair for someone to have such faultless complexion. He swallowed, flushing bright red and unable to stop himself from doing so.

“This is just very inappropriate, Dr. Kaiba…” he managed to say, eternally grateful it did not come out hoarse, or as a squeak. Perhaps it was because the statement was so practiced, it came out so easily.

“Call me Seto and we’ll see about getting out of here,” Seto replied, leaning even closer. He rested his arm on the elevator’s wall beside Yami, bending a little.

Yami swallowed with difficulty. He couldn’t take his eyes off the handsome features so close to him. He was human, oh God, he was very human and a _saint_ couldn’t stay unresponsive with such gorgeousness so close by.

“This…This is ridiculous,” this time, to his mortification, his voice came out hoarse. “Please, this is very improper,” he tried again, pressing himself tightly against the wall and looking aside, trying with all his might not to stare at the long, long beautiful white expanse that was nothing but a stunning specimen of neck muscles.

It was how he first realized he enjoyed male company… he could spend hours and hours simply staring at the perfection that was a male neck…that gorgeous sternomastoid, stretching from the base of a strong jawline, down and across to the bony prominence of a flawlessly-shaped clavicle; watching every little detail until he could see the wavy thrill of a strong jugular pulsing. And Seto’s was just so attractive, he wanted to do nothing else but worship that glorious stretch of strong muscle and smooth skin forever and ever…

Oh he really was practicing utmost lengths of self control.

“I don’t mind staying like this all day long,” Seto chuckled and Yami quickly closed his eyes at hearing the sexy rumble.

He took a deep breath, “Seto…please step aside and let the elevator carry on?”

There was momentary silence in the small enclosed space. Yami was afraid that his heartbeat was loud enough for the brunet to hear, with how loud it was beating in his chest, in his ears.

“Your accent just turns me on,” was the response he got, accompanied by long, slender fingers hooking under his chin to turn his head up. He opened his eyes to look into those mesmerizingly handsome features.

He swallowed again, holding his breath as he looked into eyes whose pupils were blown very wide, that only very thin rims of clear cerulean irises surrounded them. “I really don’t have an accent…”

The soft-looking, pale pink lips were just so close now, Yami could see the small, thin lines on them. “You really do…” was whispered from them, now mere millimeters away from his. He let out the breath he had been holding, eyes sliding shut once again at the exact same moment they touched his own mouth with gentleness that was entirely unexpected but not at all unwelcome.

His rational thinking shut down effectively and soon, he relaxed just a bit, letting his hand rise, resting on the brunet’s shoulder as they kissed, those pink, petal-like lips caressing his own with ease and gentleness, as if they always belonged there.

Yami was not even trying to protest, succumbing to the gentle touches he never knew he craved so much. It had been so long since someone touched him like this. He never knew how much he had missed it. He was hyperaware of everything suddenly. The gentle press of fingers on his chin, tilting his head up towards Seto’s lips’ expert attentions. The brunet’s other hand left its position from the elevator’s wall to slide to the back of his head. He just remembered that he did not take off the disposable surgery cap only as Seto’s fingers pulled it off. He tilted his head slightly, his lips parting in a small gasp, letting their lips dance shyly together in this tender caress. The brunet’s hand left his chin, rising to the side of his face, the long fingers extending to bury themselves in his dark locks, the soft pads gently pressing onto his scalp very lightly.

Yami wasn’t sure of what was going on. Maybe that was why he was letting this happen. It was an almost alien experience to him. Because really, compared to what he had before, he wasn’t so sure if he could call this a kiss. It was so, so tender. He expected Seto to bury his fingers in his hair and tug, but he didn’t. He expected an uncomfortable position, painful pressure on a wrist…at least a tongue fighting and forcing an entry.

However, he was amazed when the brunet pulled back, ending the contact with a gentle caress to the side of his mouth. The hand on the back of his head was now on his shoulder, the other caressing his hair very, very gently. His eyes flew open in shock and looked up at the brunet, disbelieving that that was it. No other demands.

“You’re so beautiful…” it was a small whisper. It was all Seto said.

Small, low and genuine in such a raw, unbelievable way.

It jolted him back to reality.

The word, the tone used, the entire setting… it was too much. The ease with which he let himself relax into the brunet’s arms evaporated, leaving behind the suffocating tension of the small space’s walls closing in on him and the thunderous booming of his heart in his ears, its intensity making him sick and dizzy.

He straightened, gently, but firmly, pushing at Seto’s larger frame. He took a deep breath and bravely held the blue gaze with his. “This can’t happen…”

“It just did…” Seto groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. “What the hell is the matter now? You were doing great just a few moments ago!”

“I can’t,” he simply stated. “We’re co-workers. It will complicate things.”

“Which one is it?” Seto asked, staring hard into his eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Which one is it? We are co-workers…or you can’t?”

Yami paused. Then looked away.

Silence hung heavy, suffocating over them for a while, then Seto spoke again, breaking it. “If it’s because we are coworkers and you have some weird rule about dating colleagues then I won’t press this anymore. But if it is because you can’t… I _will_ persuade you, Yami…” he was so cocky, so sure of himself as he uttered those words, pressing on the emergency button again, allowing the elevator to continue its journey.

Yami looked at him in silence, unable to come to terms with how he felt about the certainty Seto spoke with. He couldn’t even decide what it was he was so hesitant about and couldn’t answer him.

“But either way, I promise I will not do anything you don’t want me to. You can be sure of that.”

Yami took a deep breath, not realizing how much he needed the air until now. He sighed it out slowly, trying to exercise relaxation techniques and hoarsely half-whispered, “I don’t like closed spaces. No more elevators please.”

“Good to know…next time, let’s pick somewhere more open,” Seto agreed amicably.

“There will be no next time,” Yami declared, glad that his voice was back under control.

The doors slid open and he stepped outside, hoping whatever happened inside the elevator stayed there and didn’t cause more awkwardness than strictly necessary because there was nothing more he hated than lack of coordination and cohesiveness between himself and his coworkers. There was nothing for it now, he decided as he stood at the nurse station in the post-anesthesia care unit. He just had to hope for the best.

Seto stood beside him silently for a while as he went over their patient’s file and carefully recording his recommendations after discharge, until the nurse left them alone for a moment to prepare the next patient up for surgery.

Yami froze when he felt him leaning closer, as if reaching for that patient’s file, but actually covered Yami’s hand with his larger one. He gave it a small squeeze, making Yami blink and stare up at him in puzzlement.

“You _really_ are beautiful…” he said quietly.

And he walked away before Yami could reply.

*-*-*-*-*-* 

It brought back all the reasons why he refused any new relationships. He stood revising them to himself, trying to pick one to go with it to try and convince himself to put an end once and for all to all of this. 

It wasn’t that he had no time now, so he couldn’t really use that as an excuse. He had plenty of time now. He had two whole days off to himself each week as well as the afternoons and evenings of days when he had only clinic hours or short operation lists. 

It also wasn’t because he wasn’t interested. He was _very_ interested. 

He could, however, use the excuse of this turning into a disaster eventually. After all, he had been warned that Seto Kaiba was obviously a playboy. He did not really feel like letting himself get used then discarded. He wasn’t exactly the sappy, needy, let’s-get-married-now type. But, he needed more than a one night stand. 

Not only that… there was something else as well that perhaps confirmed Mai’s warning that he could be next in line, added to the list of the brunet’s conquests. He just couldn’t see why else Seto was interested. 

He stood in front of the mirror of the bathroom attached to the doctors’ locker rooms and stared at his reflection silently, thoughtfully. 

He had never considered himself on the extremes of modern beauty scales nowadays. He wasn’t an ogre, but he wasn’t exactly a stunner. He was not feeding on low self-esteem, nor was he being humble. His mixed heritage didn’t contribute to anything except making him look outlandish wherever he went. He had inherited his father’s hair and his slim, short stature. From his mother, he got his golden-brown skin, the almond shape of her eyes and the wine-colored lips. His eye color caused him a lot of trouble in school as a child and he had no idea who to blame for their strange, blood-red color that inspired fear in other children and cautiousness in adults. 

His brother, Yugi, had taken the best parts from their parents. He had taken only their mother’s nose and mouth, but from their father, he got the hair, the slim figure, his shockingly white complexion and his eyes, which _were_ strange—amethyst, hardly a common eye color—but didn’t warrant the same shocked response as Yami’s almost-red eyes did. 

Not only was he unlucky when it came to inheriting looks from his parents, the years did their damage as well. They left his face more drawn, eyes withered and his general appearance just more…tired than anyone else his age. It did not help that he had been a medical student in Egypt; a third world country, many miserable cases not just because of financial states and the patients’ inability to pay for better medical services, but also because of ignorance, neglect and complete wretchedness. He knew he looked way older than his years. He had noticed that when he had been in his fourth year of school. He did not get attached to patients, no, but with each new gloomy case, every amputated limb that could have been salvaged by better education, every life lost due to lack of resources… they all left a mark on him that manifested as worry lines, dark bags under bloodshot eyes… 

Generally speaking, there was nothing too special about his plain, bare features. 

Seto however… 

He sighed, shaking his head and wondering what a super-model like Seto could see in him except another conquest to add to a list. It must be some sick satisfaction or an urge to entertain himself and Yami was not going to succumb to this or be part of it. 

To be completely honest with himself, it was sheer power of will holding him together in the face of the Seto’s advances. 

Yes, this will most definitely end in a disaster, he decided, looking away from the mirror as he splashed his face with some water, trying to freshen up. 

He still had two more hours to go in this shift and he was feeling too tired. He offered to fill in for Jonouchi who said he needed to take a day. The blond looked genuinely upset, worry and distress carving lines onto his face that usually had a smile plastered on it that Yami just had to do something to help. Jonouchi protested, pointing out that he had a twelve hour shift after, but Yami waved him off, telling him that a twenty-four hour shift was a walk in the park compared to days and days he used to spend during his early residency days. 

Yami had insisted, confident he would be able to pull it off. But maybe, just maybe he was getting a bit too old for this. 

He dried his face on some paper towels and walked out towards the nurse’s station to check for new consultations in the emergency department. He found one, so he took the file and walked briskly towards the observation room. 

He found Seto standing beside the patient. An elderly woman, with a nasogastric tube emerging from her right nostril. He greeted her pleasantly, quickly noting the sparse hair, the prominent facial bones and the central line inserted into her neck, and coming to the conclusion that this was a cancer patient. 

“You’re here already? The nurse didn’t tell me you were answering the consultation,” he murmured to Seto with a tired smile, standing beside him. 

“You should go home,” Seto replied. He was emptying a bottle of gastrografin into a two-liter bottle of distilled water. 

Yami grabbed a 60cm syringe with a coned tip and grabbed a pair of latex gloves, “It’s just two hours left to the end of the shift…” he reassured. “What’ve we got?” 

“Fifty year old female, history of gastric carcinoma presenting with vomiting and abdominal pain of one day duration,” Seto summarized, recapping the bottle and mixing the dye with the water. 

“Oncology patient?” 

Seto nodded, confirming his earlier conclusion and answering his question. “I can cover for you. Go home,” he added. 

“It’s alright, really,” he reassured, removing the collecting bag attached to the patient’s nasogastric tube. “Obstruction?” he asked, stepping to stand beside him, giving him the syringe and taking the bottle from him to tilt it. 

The brunet mhmm-ed in agreement, filling the syringe with the water-dye mixture and starting to inject it into the tube. They stood in comfortable silence, Seto filling the syringe and injecting and Yami standing to assist him. When half the bottle was gone, Seto stepped back and called the ward assistant, asking him to transfer the patient to the CT. 

“Jonouchi could have gotten someone else who didn’t have another 12 hour shift after his, to fill in,” Seto said as they walked side by side towards the radiology center attached to the emergency department. 

“Seriously, just let it go, I’m glad I could help,” Yami told him and it was obvious the brunet wasn’t convinced, but seemed to let the matter settle. 

They stayed in silence until they reached the CT room. They positioned the patient on the table, explained to her what was going to happen and that she was to remain calm, then retreated into the radiation protection room. Yami sank into the comfortable chair gratefully and leaned forward, resting his head on the table in front of the computers and closed his eyes, listening to Seto’s smooth soothing voice give instructions to the patient over the intercom. 

“Did Jonouchi say something to you? He sounded upset. Is Mai alright?” he asked in low tones. 

Seto was silent for a few moments. He turned his head to stare up at him from where his head was resting. There was a slightly troubled look in his blue eyes. Yami was about to tell him to forget about it, if he couldn’t answer, but he spoke casually, “They’re both fine. Mai just has an appointment with a physical therapist.” 

Yami blinked, “Is she okay?” 

“Really, she’s fine. An old injury,” Seto explained. 

Yami wanted to ask more. What old injury? She looked just fine when he saw her. He was genuinely worried but he knew better than to pry. If he was meant to know, then he would know. He wasn’t going to be nosey or if gossip was involved, then he wouldn’t like to bring it up. He let the matter go and turned his head once more to bury it in the comforting darkness of his arms and closed his eyes. 

He was just going to rest them a little bit… 

He should have known better, he decided as he suddenly jerked awake, realizing he had fallen asleep when someone’s hand gently stroked his shoulder to try to wake him up. He sat up straight, startled and a bit embarrassed at getting caught sleeping on shift. He looked around him, finding that he was still in the CT room and that Seto was the one waking him up. 

“Come on,” the brunet gently said, standing beside the chair. “The shift’s over, let’s go home.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and getting up, checking his watch to confirm that yes, it was fifteen minutes past eight in the evening. 

“We didn’t get any more patients,” Seto explained. He held out Yami’s backpack. “Here I got you your things.” 

“Thanks. Was it an obstruction?” 

“No. The gastric outlet was patent and the dye reached the duodenum,” Seto shook his head. “The oncology department took over. The chemo is causing it.” 

“Oh, so it wasn’t even our case,” he asked, yawning in the middle of sentence. Seto laughed at him. “Very funny, very mature…” he mumbled, making a face up at him. 

“I should drive you home,” the brunet suggested. 

“No thanks, I can drive myself,” Yami declined, starting fishing for his keys as usual in the main pocket of his backpack. 

“You’re half asleep. For the general safety of the population of Domino City, let me drive you home,” Seto argued. 

Yami sighed. He was too sleepy for this. “And who will drive my car?” 

“I will.” 

“And who will drive _your_ car?” Yami countered back, his tone getting a bit heated as Seto’s stubbornness annoyed him further, so did his inability to find _those. Damned. Keys_! 

“I can send Isono for it!” 

“Who the hell’s Isono?” he exclaimed in exasperation, lowering the backpack and pausing to stare up at the brunet… 

“My driver,” Seto answered, taking the bag from him. They were standing in the middle of hospital’s garage by now. To his complete shock, Seto simply placed his hand inside the overly-full bag, rustled around for exactly two seconds, and his hand reemerged, carrying the illusive keys with him. 

“You have a driver?” Yami asked, determined not to show how impressed he was by the brunet’s superpowers, reaching to grab they keys from him. Maybe he was Magneto in another life. 

“Yes, I do…in fact, I also have two limos…I can call one now to take us to dinner maybe, then we’ll drive you home.” 

“Why do you have a limo?” Yami asked, ignoring everything else and wondering just how much money the brunet was making to own two limos. He didn’t realize he had stopped walking again as he stared up at Seto again. 

“I have two…” Seto corrected, placing a hand in the crook of his elbow to gently nudge him into moving again. “Let’s take a ride in the black one. I like it better than the white one; recently made sure to stock it up with a bottle of fantastic vintage red wine you will just _love_ to try…” 

Yami stopped again. “I am not going anywhere except home, in my own car that I will drive by myself.” He gently shook Seto’s hand off continuing his way towards the car. “I am not drunk. I just napped a bit. I don’t understand why you didn’t wake me.” 

“You needed some shut-eye. I left you to it.” 

Finally, they reached his car and Yami smiled up at him, “Really, I will sleep at home. Wake me up next time. I’m a big boy, I’ve pulled all nighters before.” 

Seto smiled back, leaning against the car’s body, “Have dinner with me.” 

“I need to go home and go to bed,” he replied without a blink. “You do realize that you’ve rarely missed a chance to corner me next to my car, don’t you?” 

“Let’s go to bed.” Seto suggested, ignoring the previous remark, a lewd expression on his face that made Yami laugh. 

“I sleep alone,” he answered. “ _And_ hog all the covers.” 

Seto chuckled, pushing back, letting him get into the car.

He could have driven away without further comment. But it just didn’t feel right. And so, after buckling his seatbelt, he looked at the brunet from the open window and said, “Goodnight, Seto…”

Tbc…

*-*-*-*-*-*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: hello dearies… I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Thanks to everyone who let me know what they think of it and others, thanks for stopping by.
> 
> I just wanted to add some warnings for this chapter. If anyone is triggered by the topic of suicide, please try to avoid reading this.
> 
> Enjoy.

It was an afternoon off. They weren’t as rare as they could be, but this one was a bit different from the usual. 

He had discovered a tiny little café by the pier in Domino. It was cozy. Not too empty that it made speech sound too loud and not too crowded to leave him suffocated. It was just perfect. It took up an empty corner of the pier, built with a woody-looking structure but mostly made of glass. The tables were generally arranged next to the windows. Clearly, the owners knew that whoever came here wanted a clear view of the sea.

And that was exactly what Yami wanted.

After work, he had changed in the lockers, trading the light blue scrubs with some jeans, a white, long-sleeved t-shirt and a grey cardigan, which he buttoned for extra warmth. It was starting to get colder and he was carefully dressing according to the weather because nothing bothered him more than unexpected bouts of common colds due to inappropriate attire.

He had his laptop on, a couple of papers strewn along the surface of his table in the corner of the café and he was writing down notes from a textbook of general surgery which he recently bought from the library next to the hospital. He was writing down the scientific background for their thesis and found the spot very beautiful.

He paused for a moment and sat back to stare out of the window at the sea beside him. It was cloudy, a chilly breeze moving the trees outside. His fingers, ink-stained and lightly powdered with the remains of the familiar, horrible smelling latex of the inside of the gloves he had taken off after a surgery, some hours ago, had let go of the pen and papers and were now wrapped tightly around a large mug of latte he just ordered.

It tasted like heaven… the milk was foamed just right, the coffee roast used so high-quality and rich… the barista had even swirled in a lovely swan while pouring out the milk, showing off skill that Yami appreciated wherever he was and whenever he had coffee. The dash of brown sugar he had added and the sprinkle of chocolate powder on top were all gently melting into the hot drink and he sipped happily from it.

It was the best way to unwind after a long couple of days. Today had been a bit difficult as well. There had been just two cases on the list but they were complicated. Both patients were obese and there had been post-grad exams carried out on them. He had been part of the examination committee and he had scrubbed up to assist the examinee in one of them. His shoulders had burned with the effort of holding the skin retractors but he did not complain at all. He knew it would cause the kid, who was having his first post-grad exam, to panic and disrupt his otherwise perfect technique. He did not regret not saying anything, the kid did his job quite perfectly, not dallying too long, not a move out of place.

Yami was quite happy with him.

The second examinee, however, it was Jonouchi assisting and Yami was observing. The examinee accidentally cut the inferior mesenteric vein. And that was where all hell broke loose over the operating room.

The examination stopped. The student became the assistant as Jonouchi took over after snapping at Yami and Seto both to scrub up to assist him instead. Yami understood why Seto had already moved so swiftly to the scrubbing areas. Apparently the brunet had seen the sluggish flow of venous blood and anticipated that the whole surgery was going downhill.

It took them three hours to find the two ends of the vein. A vein tearing completely might not be as dramatic as an artery… but if it had a large caliber and was located in a place like the abdominal cavity, then it was fatal. The less muscular wall meant that, once the flow of blood in its lumen was gone, the wall recoiled, both ends escaping amongst organs and intestinal coils and the blood flow—although slow—continued. It took the three of them together to get everything under control while the older staff members hovered at their shoulders for a while, then scolded the examinee for another while. The anesthesiologist was having a fit, trying to calculate the volume losses, yelling for blood and fluids and prepping her emergency drugs to try and counter the shock the patient was getting into.

It was a very thrilling morning. And _not_ in a good way.

He was grateful they had nothing else to do at work today. He had showered, changed and driven here and had been sitting there for two hours, working on the thesis. He had never been this happy that he had a cup of coffee in his hands with a good view and a thankfully focused mind. He was almost halfway through his research for the scientific background he would be using and he was grateful for the sense of accomplishment that seemed to evade him ever since he arrived.

He was just starting his third cup of that delicious coffee when someone stood beside his table. He was writing down notes in one of his notebooks and took a few moments to finish writing the sentence, raising his head when he was done to stare up at the person standing so still beside him.

His eyebrows rose up slightly when he found Seto standing next to him, wearing a dark purple shirt and a pair of jeans and a smug little smile. 

“Hi!” he said, joyful about one thing or the other.

“Hello,” Yami said, eyebrows now knitting together suspiciously, crimson eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t,” came the smart little reply. To his annoyance, the brunet casually sat down in the seat opposite his and grabbed the menu. He felt his eyebrow twitching in slight irritation when he leafed through it with that same smug smile, “Relax. Our meeting is purely the work of God.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” Yami countered, still staring suspiciously at him. “Were you following me?”

Seto laughed. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Really?”

“Seriously, stop it with the paranoia,” Seto reassured, catching the waiter’s eye to indicate he wanted to order. “I come here a lot. It’s a beautiful spot and they make excellent coffee. It’s a pure coincident that I found you here sitting all alone, so I am offering my humble company,” the smug grin widened.

“Perhaps I want to sit alone,” Yami said with a raised eyebrow.

“No you don’t,” Seto shook his head, turning to the waiter to greet him by name, ask about his sister and his mother, then ordering a latte and a brownie, not letting him reply to that.

“Never thought you had a sweet tooth,” Yami remarked, raising his cup to sip his drink, for now letting the invasion of his privacy go.

“Just for chocolate,” Seto answered, sitting back and crossing his arms. Yami kept the cup close to his lips, staring at him in silence as he settled down in the comfortable, armchair-style seat, legs crossing and a content little smile settling on slightly tired, but otherwise still gorgeous features. “So what brings you here?”

Yami shrugged. “Working on the scientific background.” He too, relaxed back in his seat after setting down the cup on the coaster once more. He suddenly noticed how tense his shoulders were, how much his eyes felt just a bit too heavy. He was tired. He sighed and forced his tense muscles to relax, closing his eyes for a bit. “It’s been a really long month…” he remarked, more to himself than to his unanticipated guest.

There was silence from Seto for a while. Then… “So it’s tougher here?”

He opened his eyes and he genuinely started laughing. “Hardly! Work here is like a walk in the park considering the working conditions I’ve had to go through back in Egypt.”

“Aren’t you being cocky?” Seto asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not at all… here the longest I’ve ever worked is twenty-four hours. That is the shortest I’ve worked there,” he shrugged, flipping through the pages of the textbook.

“That’s inhuman…”

“You have no idea.”

At that moment, Seto’s coffee and brownie arrived. He smiled a little at the scoop of chocolate-chip ice-cream piled on top of the dessert, gently melting with its heat. He looked out of the window at the cloudy skies for a while, before shifting his gaze back to the brunet, who started happily eating. He chuckled lightly, shaking his head a bit and sipping his own coffee.

“So medicine in Egypt sucks?”

“Medicine sucks everywhere,” Yami countered calmly. “It’s all just a matter of whether you have the passion for it or not.”

Seto grinned at that. “So you’ve always wanted to get into med-school?”

Yami snorted, “That couldn’t be farther from the truth, actually. I was pushed into it by my parents. They were both doctors. My father was a cardiothoracic surgeon and my mother was a dermatologist. Both were professors and they insisted I got into their alma mater. I started liking it in the last two years of school.”

“But your father’s not Egyptian, is he?” Seto asked, curious.

Yami shook his head, “No. My grandfather was an archaeologist from Japan and he settled in Egypt with his wife. Dad met mom in school and she is Egyptian.”

A part of him noted that he was perhaps talking a bit too comfortably. It was how it was with one Seto Kaiba. Things just flowed so easily around him. The banter, the flirting…the work. Everything was just so mysteriously easy, it amazed him to no end.

Seto was oh-ing silently at his previous admission. Then he grinned with a hint of evilness on his handsome features, “So let me guess…you were the teachers’ pet back in school? I mean you must have come with serious recommendation, both parents professors at your college and all that…”

Yami could feel his gaze darken ever-so-slightly.

“Again…hardly. I was treated the worst kind of treatment by both professors and my classmates as a result. They thought anything I did was because my parents pulled strings for me. And I was just not as good as they were, by Egyptian med-school standards. I didn’t measure up to their expectations and hence they assumed that I wanted special treatment,” he confessed. The amusement faded from Seto’s eyes, gradually replaced by some concern. He laughed humorlessly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry it was only for the first four years…then I had to transfer.”

Seto’s concerned gaze, if possible intensified, “Four years cannot be referred to as ‘ _only’_ , Yami.”

“It’s really fine,” he soothed. “Only the fourth year was really horrible that I had to transfer. Otherwise it was all bearable.”

“Why? What happened?” Seto asked, the concern still visible on his features.

Yami kept staring for a while longer, taking in the white skin, the faultless features and the brown locks that fell into those gorgeous blue eyes. He averted his eyes, murmuring, “Nothing…it was my fault, really.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

The comment had him turn once again to look at the brunet who had a determined look on his face.

He looked away once more. “I was going through a major depressive episode. A suicidal student.”

There was silence for a while, in which he raised his cup to his mouth to take a slow, languid sip, glancing briefly at the other side of the table to watch the expected, shocked expression that sprung on Seto’s face.

“I do believe that should have made people back off, instead of making things worse.”

Yami laughed. He set down the mug on the coaster again and leaned forward a bit to cross his fingers together while leaning his elbows on the edge of the table. “It wasn’t like that at all. I never got any preferential treatment because of it. Suicide, or poor mental health in general, is a stigmata in Egypt that not a single one of its cases ever escaped. To take one’s life is so unimaginable to people. My parents did not have a choice at that time, however. Part of me knows for sure that if it wasn’t for the fact that my bones could be seen, they would have either dealt with it themselves or left me to stop bleeding on my own, if I ever stopped…”

He sat back, grabbing his coffee once more. He sipped calmly from his cup, his eyes set with strange fascination on the breakwater. He could feel the blue eyes fixed firmly on him but did not have the bravery to meet them and find out what sort of expression was swimming in their depths exactly.

“I was extremely unlucky that day,” he resumed, then paused a little, chuckling slightly, before adding, “Or lucky, depending on how I am looking at it right now. Now that I look back on it, my luck really was on my side even back then. I was supposed to have the whole house to myself that day. Yugi was in school and my parents were both working; my mother in her clinic and my father traveling to a conference in the USA. The house was supposed to be empty for at least several hours. I even prepared a painkiller to take in advance… Opioids are prescription grade drugs but I managed to get a hold of some tramadol pills and took them an hour before I did anything, just in case it was too painful to cut to the right depth. I had everything calculated perfectly, according to the average blood flow in the radial and ulnar arteries, and I determined how deep I should cut to sever them. I was just so good at anatomy back then.”

The words were coming out with a vague sense of detachment. He was still watching the artificial breakwater with an odd fascination, crimson eyes fixed on the dark grey, uneven rocks piled up together to form a long structure that did its job perfectly. The winter waters were hurling themselves angrily at it, breaking on the rocks in a flurry of dark blue liquid, white foam and invisible spray too fine for the naked eye to see.

“Yugi had a half-day at school, it turned out. I didn’t know. Not only that, my father had his flight cancelled due to bad weather in New York and returned after just one hour of leaving…” he continued, tearing his eyes away from the water to focus on his coffee. He raised it to his mouth to sip gently from it, fingers wrapped tightly around the cup to try and transmit its warmth to the rest of his body. “I was already well into the far edge of first degree shock… my father didn’t call the ambulance. He knew they would arrive too late and we lived near the hospital anyway. He drove me himself to the emergency room and he called the head of the vascular surgery department, who contacted one of my older classmates and one of my mentors at that time to tell her about my condition in advance and have her ready to meet them in an emergency operating room.”

He smiled and nodded slightly to himself, recalling her.

“Her name was Ishizu Ishtar. She was the only female in the surgery department and she was the very best of them. She got in against the will of everyone in the department and she shut all of them up with how great she was. She was a senior resident at that time, almost an assistant lecturer. Overworked, with dark circles under her eyes and rarely leaving the hospital. I remember once seeing her at the supermarket and joking that I didn’t recognize her out of her scrubs and without the Doppler bag slung on her shoulder.”

He kept it to himself that she had blue eyes their shade so much like Seto’s but, on remembering them, he finally raised his eyes to look at the brunet and swallowed thickly, only now realizing what he was doing and what exactly he was telling this…this supposedly complete stranger. The expression in those blue eyes jolted him back to reality. The shock and worry. There was no pity there, he was grateful to see. But it was so much like Ishizu’s expressions back then after he made it—because of her—that it made him realize that he never said this out loud to anyone else before.

He looked away, suddenly aware of himself and what he was doing and exactly what he was saying and to who. He could feel himself flushing fiercely and he was embarrassed to feel his ears and his face reddening at gossiping so much about a topic that was one of the most taboo subjects that he didn’t even like thinking about to himself, never mind saying so much about it to someone else. Someone like Seto. He felt naked suddenly. He had talked too much and now he was just vulnerable and he hated that feeling. He clenched his fist on the table, feeling his heart racing and starting to hyperventilate with fear and complete mortification.

“Don’t…”

He blinked at the single, monosyllabic outburst coming from Seto. The expression changed in those blue eyes. Shock turned into determination…worry became a whole new shade of concerned pleading. The perfect eyebrows, previously partly raised now knitting together ever-so-slightly. He was surprised when Seto’s hand crossed the distance across the small table, catching on the edge of the large textbook for one moment, but continued its path towards his side of the table to rest on his clenched hand.

Yami stared at it in silence, a part of him noting that his breath was coming short for entirely different causes now. He then shifted his eyes up to stare at the brunet once again.

“Don’t stop…please tell me, I want to know,” he said, a determined note dancing along his words. There was a tiny plea there as well, he could hear it.

He cleared his throat gently. He withdrew his hand and turned to look at the waters once again. “I blabbed too much,” he muttered softly.

“Don’t worry… I swear I won’t tell anyone,” Seto quickly rushed out. Yami laughed slightly, nervously at his zeal. “I _won’t_!”

“I know you won’t,” he reassured. He laughed slightly, adding, “What are we, five? I know you won’t…” he then shrugged, shaking his head slightly, and explained, “I just never speak of this to anyone.”

“Maybe you should…”

“There is nothing more to say, really,” he lamely said, staring down at his hands as his fingers knotted together in his lap.

There was silence for a while. Then Seto asked, careful, “What happened then?”

“Well… nothing really… she was on call that day. She is the reason I am anything in my field right now. She repaired the arteries so perfectly, making sure no ischemia happened at all. She noticed that I had nicked my ulnar nerve while slashing the artery open. If it wasn’t for her insisting on getting the neurosurgeon on call to take a look, my ring and little fingers wouldn’t be working at all now…” he smiled once again. “I wasn’t too happy with her when I woke up later, but… again, this just depends on which time I am looking back on the situation.”

He was dreading ‘the’ question. The why. It was the reason he was so horrified he had said so much. He wasn’t prepared for the answer. It was too much information. Already, this was too much information. He fought to keep his breathing under control again, and looked away, once more choosing to focus on the soothing sight of the waves breaking, waiting for the feared question.

It never came…

“What happened after that?”

He shifted his eyes back to Seto’s. He looked genuinely interested. There was nothing to indicate that he was about to ask why he did it. There was just pure curiosity on his features. He looked away once more, raising his now just-warm cup to sip the coffee which he had forgotten all about for the past few minutes.

“Nothing… the news spread way too quickly. Not because of Ishizu, but the neurosurgeon was also one of our older classmates. He told someone, and someone told another someone and within three days everyone knew what happened.”

His tone was flat. He didn’t particularly feel like recalling that part. The first few tentative phone calls… the religious advice that meant absolutely nothing to him. Then the harsh comments that followed. That it was all a cry for attention, that he really should man up a bit. That perhaps he couldn’t handle the stress. Maybe he was ashamed he wasn’t among the top ten students like his father and mother had been…

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and leaning back in his seat again. When he opened them again, he made sure he was looking outside the window once again.

“I transferred to another school the year after it,” he resumed. “I went ahead and got the transfer papers done. My grandfather lived alone in one of Egypt’s smaller towns, by the Suez Canal. He ran a game shop there.” He smiled once more. “I love him and consider him a parent-figure more than both my parents combined. Someone his age would never have accepted someone like me to live with him, never mind offer the emotional and material support he offered me.”

There was complete silence settling over them for a few minutes, in which he sipped the rest of his coffee. He even flipped through the book absentmindedly, vaguely placing a note here and there to reread later, because his thoughts were in too much of a frenzy to focus on properly penning down any important pieces of information.

“I’m sorry.” He looked up, crimson eyes questioning. Seto sighed, picking at the half-eaten brownie for a while and making little swirly patterns in the melted ice-cream. “I made assumptions. I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s alright. Everyone jumped to that conclusion and that was why everything was so horrible for a while,” Yami reassured. Obviously, this was not what Seto wanted to hear, so he insisted, “Really, I did not tell you this so you would upset yourself about it. I am way over it. The incident itself and the horrible first few years. The rest of it was a lot of fun. It was too late by then to change careers and I was too stubborn to leave something unfinished, so I had decided to continue med-school and the last two years were so much fun, I ended up loving the field. So it all turned out to be okay in the end.”

There was silence for a while longer.

“Oh god, please don’t do this,” Yami groaned.

“What!” Seto indignantly asked.

Yami waved a hand around, “Get all awkward. I said it is fine. It’s been over ten years since and I don’t even know why I brought it up. So please just let it go and don’t make things unnecessarily uncomfortable.”

Once again, there was silence for a while, “I wasn’t making things awkward…” Seto defensively said. Yami raised an eyebrow at him, cocking his to the side with an ‘oh really?’ kind of look so he sheepishly smiled, “I was just wondering if I will be a complete ass if this doesn’t stop me from calling you uptight.”

Yami giggled nervously, grateful for the diversion from the morbid topic he had unintentionally opened. He took the long-handled, coffee-stirring spoon that came with his latte and reached for the brownie to take a piece and taste it.

“You could order one for yourself, instead of eating mine,” Seto looked indignant.

Yami grinned, “I’ll get fat. One spoon from your dish is more than enough.”

“You don’t look like you can get fat.”

“Oh I can. And I am not the physically fit type. The only exercise I ever get is running in a hospital’s corridors. So I watch my food closely, because if I breathe one extra breath, I gain weight…” Seto was just staring at him so he shrugged, setting down the spoon and picking up his coffee once more and enviously said, “I’ve always been that way. Not all of us are born models.”

Seto laughed at that. “I will consider that a compliment,” he said, the evil gleam returning to his eyes. Yami watched in fascinated silence the little, fine wrinkles that appeared beside the soft pink lips. There were just so many perfect details about Seto, he couldn’t help staring. It didn’t help at all that Seto was aware of how gorgeous he really was, using his best features to his advantage, smiling haughtily, pushing a stray strand of his chocolate-brown hair away from his eyes and adding, “It takes effort to look this good, though. It’s not as easy as you think it is.”

Yami scoffed at that, “Seriously, don’t tell me it’s hard work to be able to eat all of this brownie and still look like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man…”

“Envy doesn’t become you,” Seto pointed with the spoon, a mock admonishment on his features. Yami shook his head in skepticism and picked up his cup again, as Seto added, “And it _is_ hard work. I cexercise in my swimming pool every day. It’s why I can eat all of this without guilt.” Yami placed the cup back on the table with more force than necessary, making Seto jump slightly and raise an eyebrow. “So violent, Motou…”

“How much do you exactly make a year? Two limos, a swimming pool… what else, do you own a private jet and a yacht?” Seto pursed his lips and shrugged. Yami’s eyes widened. “You do, don’t you?”

“The jet belongs to Kaiba Corporation, to be completely honest,” Seto laughed. Yami blinked, not understanding. “Your expression is priceless, though. No, the limos and the jet and yacht and pool are not from my wages as an angel of mercy,” he closed his eyes in a mock peaceful expression. “We’ve always had them. The business is going great and all that…”

Realization dawned on Yami. “Seto Kaiba… KaibaCorp Kaiba,” he exclaimed in recognition. Suddenly, an entirely different kind of awe dawned on him. “Oh my God, I didn’t even make the connection.”

Seto grinned, pushing away the now empty plate and holding his coffee. “Yeah… don’t get too excited, our current job doesn’t pay that much.”

“It must be so awesome, growing up with so much power at your fingertips,” he remarked absentmindedly.

Seto’s eyes misted over for a few seconds, then he blinked and sheepishly smiled, “Yeah, it was awesome. Just a bit.”

Yami laughed. “For a while, I thought you were some kind of child prodigy who skipped grades and graduated early from med-school and that is why you have more money than the rest of us.”

“I _was_ a child prodigy who graduated early… but not from med-school,” Seto remarked and Yami stared. “I was CEO of the company for exactly three years. I was nineteen when I left it to my brother, who was sixteen at that time.” Yami’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Yes, I was like… two years behind everyone else in med-school in my generation.”

Yami stayed silent for a few moments, then asked, “How come both of you could take control of an empire like Kaiba Corporation when you’re both so young?”

“We were _both_ child prodigies…” Seto showed off. Yami cocked his head sideways and gave him the ‘I am serious’ look, so he explained, “Our stepfather shot himself in the head because I had voted him out of the board of directors, leaving the company in my hands.”

Yami almost choked. “Your _stepfather_?”

Seto nodded calmly, “We were adopted into the Kaiba family when I was ten. Gozaburo had a child called Noah, but he died in a car accident. I took advantage of his visit to our orphanage and challenged him to a game of chess. I told him if I won, he had to adopt me and my brother both.”

He looked very mellow about it, Yami noted. As if it was a perfectly normal thing for a ten year old to challenge someone four times his age to a game of strategy and tactics and win.

“He had been home-schooling us ever since. He focused on me more than my brother, but only because I was older,” he resumed, shrugging and looking indifferent still. But Yami could see the normally easy expression on his features hardening, the blue eyes losing the glint of passion that normally burnt there. “I was not given a choice on which career I would have liked to pursue. I knew I had to change that for Mokuba…”

“Your brother?” Yami interrupted with interest.

Seto smiled. Yami’s heart raced a little when the little laughter wrinkles appeared once more beside the blue eyes, warmth and happiness filling them once more as he replied, “Yes… he’s just an amazing kid… he took over KaibaCorp and let me do whatever the hell I wanted.”

Yami paused for a moment, “And did he always want to run KaibaCorp?”

“Oh yes… he is way, way better than I ever was. Because he really loves what he’s doing,” Seto reassured. “Don’t worry, I am not doing to him what was done to me.”

Yami blushed to the roots of his hair. “That’s not what I meant,” he defensively said.

Seto laughed, “Relax. I know. It’s just he spent six months convincing me that I am not.”

Yami kept silent at that and the silence persisted for a while, Seto just helping himself to Yami’s notes and flipping through them, grabbing his pencil to circle this or underline that. Yami was not at all paying attention to what he was doing, staring long and hard at the sun setting, mind going over what Seto told him.

He sighed.

“What?” the brunet asked, pausing what he had been doing.

Yami’s head shook a little bit, a small smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “I guess I went ahead and made assumptions as well. the moment I heard you were the heir to the KaibaCorp empire, I immediately presumed you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

“It’s okay,” Seto said, eyes scanning the textbook. “Everyone assumes that. It is not very common knowledge and it’s only because Gozaburo had been a bit of a loser, to be honest. The corporation started getting so famous and making headlines after he had been voted out and he had to go out with some drama.”

“I have no knowledge whatsoever about the business world, but I am guessing it wasn’t easy to do that to him?” he was curious to know. He was _very_ curious to know. Clearly, there was more to Seto Kaiba, M.D. than the shallow-minded playboy who called him uptight and hassled him openly in front of colleagues and students.

Fascinated, he watched him penning down useful notes from the book in his loopy, slanting script, nonchalantly shrugging, “It wasn’t easy, no. but I was motivated by years of hate for him to be honest. He was an asshole and there was no hope of him ever changing. He couldn’t stomach the fact that a ten year old beat him at a game of chess and I spent years and years paying for his hurt pride. I was stuck with only two options; either he wins and I just cave under the stress or prove him wrong that I can take whatever he dished out at me. It made him angrier of course, that no matter what he did, I just adapted. If it wasn’t for Mokuba during those years, I would have been driven mad. In a way, back then I would have envied you for your suicide attempt. I didn’t have that choice, even, because I knew Mokuba would have no one.”

Yami’s fist clenched at the achingly honest admission. It was painful to listen to and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know any more details than that. He stayed silent, however, respectfully remembering that the brunet had let him say what he had to say without interrupting with silly questions or misplaced comments.

“I think I was so obsessed at that time proving that I could take it all that I would have gladly carried on without even thinking of anything to do to change what was happening. When I was fifteen, I was given ten million dollars, and I was told I could spend it whichever way I wanted. But the catch was, I had exactly one year to return it ten-fold,” Yami blinked and stared blankly, so Seto chuckled lightly. “Yes… it was supposedly the epitome of all challenges and I was so willing to prove I could do it, I took him on. I bought a small company with the ten million dollars. Insignificant, really, but its workplace was very tight-knit together. They were practically family.” He grinned, pausing for a second, then added, “I then told its president I was going to dissolve it. Make everyone go their separate ways, cutting down costs and making workers redundant.”

“That was cruel,” Yami remarked, raising his eyebrows and not even trying to hide his dismay.

“I was…” Seto agreed with a little laugh. “But there was no room for mercy in business, Yami. I absolutely had to gain back the money, especially since he had one of his right-hand men watching exactly how I will do it and report everything back to him.”

Yami wondered just what kind of strength Seto had to be able to live with such a man who obviously took a challenge with a fifteen year old so seriously, he gave him such a large sum of money and had his best man watch him. “What an overkill,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

“Well, it was his downfall anyway,” Seto grinned. “When I told Mokuba that I was being observed, however, he suggested how to shut him up for good. It turned out Mokuba could outwit both of us and I was so grateful to have him on my side.”

“How so?” Yami urged him, interest piquing more and more.

“At that time, Gozaburo owned forty-nine-percent of KaibaCorp’s shares. That was the controlling interest, which meant that he was the person owning the largest number of shares. The rest was owned by normal shareholders from all over the world. Mokuba suggested that I propose buying out these shares by going to the current board of directors and suggesting voting him out.” He paused for a second, playing around with the empty wrapper of brown sugar, fondly smiling and adding, “I didn’t know back then that Gozaburo had given Mokuba two-percent of Kaiba Corporation’s shares. I had convinced the board and we did manage to buy forty-nine-percent of the shares, but it was useless, of course. We had to have more than him. And that was where Mokuba stepped in and announced that he was selling his two-percent to me.”

Yami’s oh-ed, eyes glinting with a new kind of amazement altogether.

“Yeah, it was quite a dramatic scene,” Seto said, chuckling at his expression. “Gozaburo really could not handle that blow to his pride. Shot himself in the head three days after we gracefully told him to evacuate his office.”

Yami laughed nervously at that, unsure if he really should be laughing or not.

“It’s okay, you can laugh. He was quite a ghastly, appalling man, as you would probably describe him,” Seto teased, easily understanding his dilemma.

His tense laughter turned into an open snicker at that and the brunet joined him.

By now, the sun had set completely and the café had switched on the lanterns that hung from the ceiling, casting yellow hues over its customers in a calm and chic way that had Yami falling in love with this place even more.

“I can’t believe it’s been that long…” Seto remarked, glancing at his watch. Yami mirrored his action, noting that he had been here for four hours already and that they had been talking for a little under two hours. “See time flew by so quickly while we talked…” something in Seto’s speech made Yami look up. He was a little alarmed to see the usual, lecherous look back in the blue eyes. “Time will fly by even quicker in my bed…”

Yami rolled his eyes. “Do you _ever_ stop?”

“I’m just saying…” Seto innocently shrugged, pushing back from the table slightly and straightening his impossibly long arms. He looked like a little kid with the glint brightening up his eyes.

“Well don’t,” Yami shook his head.

He was collecting all the papers that were now haphazardly strewn across the surface of the table, shaking his head at the little notes made there in handwriting different from his when Seto spoke again after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Aren’t you going to tell me why calling you beautiful made you flip out?”

He froze.

He gazed up, holding the blue eyes, a million thoughts rushing through his mind all at once and as many feelings leaving him wordless. He kept his mouth shut for the time being, knowing that if he opened it, he would probably embarrass himself, either by making an unintelligent sound, or blabbing unintentionally like he did earlier. Granted, it didn’t turn out to be such a horror to voice out loud an incident that had a great role in shaping the man he was today, but he wasn’t exactly very comfortable talking about moments of vulnerability like that. His pride did not allow him to appear anything but composed and collected at all times. The fact that he had said so much, bared his weaknesses to the brunet so much…

He wasn’t going to do more of that, right now.

He smiled, returning back to the task of gathering his things.

“Not today, Seto…”

Tbc…

*-*-*-*-*


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m glad both of you seem to be getting along nicely.” 

Yami hummed, a look of utter concentration on his face as his right hand quickly and smoothly cut into the patient’s skin, the scalpel gliding easily through the tissues to make the initial step to establish an upper midline incision. 

“Last time you hated each other’s guts.”                                                           

His wrist flicked with practiced ease, once, taking the whole length of the patient’s midline, from the xiphoid process to a little above the umbilicus, cutting the skin with the first stroke, and repeating the smooth gliding motion to split open the fascia, linea alba and transversalis fascia and finally reaching the extrapertioneal fat and the peritoneum. “Yeah, we’re fine now,” he answered as an afterthought, picking up the peritoneum to make sure there wasn’t any intestinal adhesions. 

“We didn’t hate each other,” Seto was objecting… 

“Can we just focus here please?” Yami requested, ready to open the peritoneum to access the abdominal cavity. Before cutting through that last layer, he glanced up quickly at Jonouchi and Seto and the nurse, nodding slightly. 

They nodded back at him and he went ahead, exposing the abdominal cavity. Immediately, the nurse was suctioning the massive amounts of blood that spilled from the incision out of the abdomen, while Jonouchi inserted laparotomy pads in each of the four quadrants of the abdomen. Seto, meanwhile, was handing Yami the electrocautery cable so he could incise the avascular peritoneal attachments of the spleen they were going to remove. 

The chatter between them paused, allowing Yami to concentrate as he sought out the splenic bundle and the spleen’s hilum. With practiced ease, he identified the artery and vein and he asked for an artery forceps and a 0, non-absorbable silk thread. 

“Just ligate any of them, there’s no time to look for the vein,” Seto told him, reaching for what he asked for anyway. 

Yami calmly took the artery forceps from him, muttering, “I am not looking for it. I found it.” 

He grinned slightly behind his mask, when he heard Seto swearing and was vaguely aware of the nurse and Jonouchi gushing over his excellent knowledge of anatomy. He noticed, though, that Honda was trying to peer over their shoulders at what was happening, clearly not understanding what the fuss was all about. 

“Honda,” he called, stepping back just a little bit so he could clear an area for the junior resident to see through. 

“Yes, sensei?” eagerly, Honda was standing at his shoulder, careful not to touch him or his sterile gown. 

“Stand there so you can see how and where exactly we carry out the ligation,” Yami requested, quickly and efficiently looping the silk thread around the artery. “It’s done as close to the spleen as possible, because if you wander farther away, you may injure the tail of the pancreas and then we would have to insert drains and delay the patient’s healing.” 

“Alright, sensei,” Honda said and Yami could feel him nodding. “Why do we have to ligate the artery before the vein?” he asked, curious. 

“You don’t _have_ to. If you can identify the artery quickly, then ligate it first. Because, theoretically, you conserve more splenic blood if you ligate the artery before the vein,” he explained calmly, hands working smoothly around Seto’s and Jonouchi’s. “But if you can’t identify which is which, just ligate any one of them, especially in traumatic cases like this one, because the amount of blood you’re going to save is considerably insignificant compared to the time you will lose trying to save it.” 

“Alright, sensei,” Honda repeated, breathlessly agreeing with so much awe in his voice, it bordered on hero-worship. 

Yami almost rolled his eyes at the honorific and tone of voice, but chose to continue ligating the vein after finishing the artery. There was silence while he worked, but a much more relaxed one, after the source of the bleeding for the patient was recognized. She was a road traffic accident victim who came in with severe hypotension and abdominal tenderness and a very obvious Cullen Sign, the blue around the umbilicus so obvious, it was Honda who pointed it out before either of them arrived for the consultation in the ER. 

“That was impressive, though, Yami,” Seto remarked, after Yami was done. 

“Thank you,” Yami politely replied, searching for the gastric vessels carefully. 

Jonouchi laughed, hazel eyes gleaming under the protective goggles they were wearing. “You both are being so polite. What happened? Last time I saw you, you were ready to rip each other’s head off.” 

Yami didn’t reply. Seto, however, wasn’t so mature about it. 

“We had dinner.” 

Yami’s head snapped up so he could glare daggers at Seto across the table. “We did _not_ have dinner,” he snapped irritably. His brows knit together in annoyance at the playful blue eyes that stared back at him. 

“Well, it was a date, anyway,” Seto replied, a pleased expression on his handsome features. 

Yami shook his head, removing the spleen and placing it in the kidney dish the nurse held for him. “You’re delusional. And it wasn’t a date.” He checked the subphrenic area and the gastric vessels to make sure that hemostasis was achieved. “You were so desperate, you had to resort to stalking me all the way to the coffee shop,” he added, figuring that since Seto was playing so dirty and being immature, he was allowed to do so as well. 

“So was it a date or was it not a date?” Jonouchi asked, eagerly looking between them, clearly enjoying this way too much, to Yami’s annoyance. 

“It wasn’t!” 

“It was…” 

Yami shook his head once more, raising an eyebrow in annoyance as they started removing the packs one by one to search for other sources of bleeding. It was obvious that it had been the lacerated, mangled spleen and that nothing else was causing the hypotension. 

“We had coffee and brownies,” Seto was still talking. Yami studiously ignored what was going on and what was being said, counting the packs carefully with the nurse and then counting the towels and reporting them to the anesthesiologist who stood beside the IV stand, hanging another bag of blood up and attaching it to the patient’s IV line. 

“Coffee and brownies are hardly dinner, Kaiba,” Jonouchi was replying. 

“We dined and wined… it sounds like dinner to me,” Seto said, quite pleased with how annoying he was being. Yami was still painstakingly ignoring him. 

“You’re a big idiot,” Jonouchi laughed at Seto’s obvious teasing. 

Yami continued ignoring both of them, asking the nurse for the monofilament polypropylene. “Can we just focus on getting this abdomen closed?” he grumbled at both of them, irritation clear in his eyes. Seto smiled and approximated the edges of the linea alba so he could start placing his sutures. 

“Spoilsport…” 

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Kaiba for your much valued opinion of me,” Yami snapped, not taking his eyes off the wound as he placed continuous sutures in the sheath, pulling tightly and snugly, making sure that no points of weakness were left in it. “Just keep holding the incision lines close so we can be done with my grump.” 

He ignored the juvenile way with which Jonouchi and Seto both dissolved into childish giggles. 

“The sexual tension between both of you is unbelievable,” Jonouchi helpfully provided and Yami paused, shooting him a glare that could have made lesser men cower. But it was obvious that the blond had defective survival instincts and he laughed even more at Yami’s heated stare. 

“There is only one way to relieve it,” Seto dramatically sighed. 

“You do realize that what you are doing borders on sexual harassment, don’t you?” Yami remarked in bored tones, holding the edges of the thread up for Seto to cut. 

“Now both of you sound normal again,” Jonouchi said, stepping back from the operating table, taking off his disposable gown. 

“You pressed his uptight button, Jou,” Seto remarked. Yami could feel his gaze on him from the other side of the table and continued ignoring him. “Now he’s not talking to me, see what you’ve done!” 

“It’s not that I am not talking to you,” Yami remarked, loading the vicryl thread onto the needle holder. “I choose to be the adult here and not take part in this ridiculous chatter.” 

“Are you really going to do a subcut suture?” Seto asked with a roll of his eyes. 

“Do you have a problem with leaving the patient with the least ugly scar we can manage?” Yami asked. 

“You could use a stapler.” 

“I could. But I am using sutures and as my assistant, I expect you to respect that,” he muttered, continuing his work, trying very, very hard not to punch the stupid, silly smile off the brunet’s pretty face. If only to respect the divine powers that created such perfection, nothing else. “It’s very difficult to work while justifying every step of it, Dr. Kaiba. Please stop being a complete _ass_ and let me do my job. If you’ve gone tired, I can ask Honda to scrub up and continue assisting me.” 

“I’m _not_ tired,” Seto heatedly defended. 

“Why else are you complaining about my method of closure, then?” 

“Because I think it’s pointless,” Seto snapped. “There is little to no evidence that the subcut leaves a less prominent scar than a stapler.” 

“Too bad,” Yami replied, glad he pissed off the annoying little shit so much. “Next time, you do it your way. Otherwise, I am the surgeon here and I believe a subcut is the ideal closure method.” 

His hands were working efficiently as he waited for a comeback. To his surprise, there wasn’t any. It was apparent that the brunet was going to shut up for now. It was such a relief and he visibly relaxed, grateful for the break from the quarrelling. 

“Finally, Kaiba, I’ve lived to see the day someone shut you up,” Jonouchi whistled from where he was writing down post-op care instructions. 

Yami was about to roll his eyes because, for sure, Seto wouldn’t just let this go and would take it as an opportunity to retaliate and make this go on and on forever. 

He was grateful when Honda breathlessly whispered from behind him, cutting off whatever the brunet was going to rant about to answer Jonouchi’s teasing, “Sensei, you’re so good at this!” 

Silence hung heavy in the room and Yami paused slightly, peering over his shoulder. “Thank you, Honda.” 

“These are so neat, yet you’re too quick. You’ve already placed eight stitches in when it’s been less than three minutes since you started. How did you do that? How do I become quick at it like you?” the excitement was palpable in his voice and Yami chuckled slightly. 

“Honda, I’ve probably done more laparotomies than most people you know,” Yami explained. 

“Cocky.” 

Yami didn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes this time at Seto’s sarcastic comment. He continued talking as if he didn’t hear the comment, “Third world countries don’t have the luxury of laparoscopes at their disposal. We don’t have exploratory laparoscopes. All explorations are done via laparotomies. Add to it that diagnostic imaging was too expensive and not always available, so you just had to open the abdomen blindly to get to the cause of an internal bleed. Imagine the number of cases I had to work every week during my residency alone. I’ve had practice.” 

“So badass.” 

Yami kept silent, determined not to stoop low and deign a reply to what was obviously the childish way Seto dealt with losing an argument. He was adding the finishing touches to his stitches, working quicker than ever to try and cut short the time he spent in the same room as Seto because he was just unbearable right now. 

Fortunately, that was the end of it and no more silly comments were made and he was free to take off the gown and do his part of the boring paperwork that followed each surgery and seemed to follow him all around the world. When he was done, he waited until Honda followed him and left the operating room to head for the emergency room. 

It was halfway through their shift. It just so happened that all three of them were gathered in the hospital today. Seto and Yami were on call for twelve hours and Jonouchi was the senior on call with them. It had been a relatively unexciting shift for the first four hours, then this patient arrived and an emergency open laparotomy was decided upon. 

It was one week after their little sit-down in the coffee shop by the sea. They had continued working as if it never happened and Yami was eternally grateful for that. It had been a difficult week, where sleep was concerned, since the workload wasn’t severe enough to knock him unconscious before his head hit the pillow, so he spent hours over thinking and reprimanding himself for having too big of a mouth and unwinding far too much for it to be acceptable around the brunet. It annoyed him to no end that Seto wasn’t acting like Yami expected him to. To press and push and generally make him regret saying anything. It was a conflicting feeling that irritated him too much. Part of him was grateful for the lack of awkwardness that could ruin the easy familiarity that seemed to settle between them. Yet another part was puzzling over how maturely Seto was dealing with the information he had. 

He didn’t know what to think. On his first day in Japan and he was told clearly that his partner on his thesis was going to try to worm his way into his bed and that he should be careful. There was no doubt that Seto was living up to the warning, but what Yami did not expect was finding it so difficult to resist his advances like this. 

Seto Kaiba was very pleasing to the eye, he had gotten that established also since day one. But where he expected him to be a childish spoilt brat who always got what he wanted then threw it away after using it, he gave off the vibes that he wasn’t as foolish or immature as he thought he would be. Yami did not know what exactly was going to happen if he stopped resisting the undeniable charm his colleague seemed to emanate all around him. It could be all just the brunet’s way of luring his victims and discarding them once he was done. 

He did not like the conspiracy theory his mind was pulling. In his opinion, it was all very self-indulgent and he did not think anyone would go to such measures to just lure him into their bed. It just seemed like too much effort and that it was more likely that this was how Seto was usually. Cunning and quite devilish but trustworthy. 

He had decided that he was just going to maintain the status quo, being friends with the brunet without getting swept into imagining scenarios that weren’t going to happen. He decided that Seto was just this flirty to everyone else. Besides, he literally had everyone wrapped around his little finger; there is no way he could be going to such measures to try and get someone plain and unexciting like him to bed. He only had one job to do and that was preventing himself from getting too attached to the brunet. 

For the moment, though, he did not find it very difficult to shun any advances from Seto’s part. Today, he was being extra annoying and perhaps it had something to do with one of the senior-most staff member’s decision that Yami would be working that splenectomy and not him. 

He did not know what was going on, but it seemed to him that Seto and Pegasus Crawford did not get along well. 

It was understandable; the older man was not very likable, Yami had decided the moment he met him. His eyes, although a warm hazel color were quite unsettling and the ridiculously long, smooth white tresses of his hair did not help soften his cold appearance one bit. It did not help at all that he spoke in a very creepy, dragging manner that put Yami on edge.

It reminded him of one of his professors of biochemistry in third year who had the annoying habit during oral examinations. He would sit, asking questions in the same dragging, annoying sentences, that suggested that there was some grand plot behind the question and whatever answer he had would never be correct.

He didn’t know if that was why Seto was so annoyed with Pegasus or if there was a more profound reason and he did not think directly asking would provide an answer that satisfied his curiosity. 

He let the matter go when he reached the cafeteria next to the emergency room. He bought himself a bottle of apple juice and a packet of salted crackers. He stood in front of the chocolates stand, battling the craving for something sweet, then remembered that he was short and couldn’t afford gaining weight at all. He sighed as he stood paying for his little snack, wondering why his parents never bothered trying to encourage him to exercise as much as they nagged him about academics. 

He was still mourning his slow metabolism and the way it was ruining his life at the moment when he found Honda and Ryuji huddled together, their body language screaming unease. He stood watching them, munching his way through the first biscuit, as Honda spoke quickly under his breath, obviously vehemently trying to persuade Ryuji about something, but the green-eyed young man refused to listen, his eyes cold and his mouth set in anger. 

It was only when Ryuji quietly replied to Honda’s zealous tirade with a single statement, shaking his head and meeting the brunet’s dark eyes with a determined look, that he realized he was most probably intruding on a private moment. Reprimanding himself, he turned his attention to the bottle of juice, opening it and taking a sip. 

Moments later, he found Seto standing beside him, taking the packet of crackers from him. 

“Hey!” he protested. 

“You’re ruining your diet, Motou!” Seto said calmly, eating one of the crackers with certainty. “I’m just helping you out.” 

“It’s just a couple of salt crackers,” Yami reached for the packet only to have him raise his arm, moving it out of his reach. Clearly, the brunet had gotten his head out of the gutter, gotten over the I-am-the-one-operating card he pulled on him and was willing to speak like an adult now. He didn’t say anything about it, however. 

“I can give you one… only if you promise to exercise,” Seto evilly told him. Yami stood back, narrowing his eyes. “My pool is at your service any time.” Yami raised an eyebrow, tilting his head sideways just a little. Seto’s evil little grin widened to an excited beam, eyes glinting as he added, “I hope you have a swimsuit. In my humble opinion, swim briefs would suit you perfectly.” 

“Keep the crackers, Kaiba, I lost my appetite,” Yami dryly told him, sipping on the apple juice and focusing his attention on his junior resident and the ER resident as their mysterious argument continued even now. It was better than paying attention to the brunet beside him, lest he socked him in the face or something. 

“I think a dark blue color would go perfectly with that tan…” 

It was obvious he had given this much thought. 

“I can’t swim,” he tried ending the topic with that blunt dead-end. He also tried not to think of the implications of Seto going that far into his imagination as to imagine a suitable color for a swimsuit. 

It seemed Seto was adamant, though, continuing his opinionated rant with enthusiasm that Yami had to commend him for. “Forget trunks and full-body suits. We don’t need that kind of negativity in our lives.” 

Yami couldn’t help dissolving into peals of gentle laughter, shaking his head, still staring at his bottle of juice. The residual smile that lingered on his features remained as he thought of the last time someone actually made him laugh genuinely, in a context outside work and without using references from a shared favorite movie or TV series. It was sad that it had been just too long, he realized. He also realized that the brunet was silent. He looked up at him, about to ask him if something was wrong, only to find the blue eyes staring at him, an expression of open appreciation making them gleam brighter than usual. The smile froze on his own lips and he looked away, hoping that his reddening ears weren’t too obvious. 

“Your ears go red when you’re embarrassed.” 

Apparently, Seto was not oblivious and wasn’t going to let the matter go. Yami didn’t answer him, knowing that whatever he said, it would sound totally stupid and cause the flush that was thankfully limited mostly to areas beneath clothing for now, to spread farther. 

“How much does it spread, down there?” Seto asked curiously. Before Yami could wonder just what kind of super powers the brunet had to read his mind in such a manner, a slender hand was rising to hold onto the collar of Yami’s scrubs’ top pulling it gently so its owner could feign peering down his clothes. 

The pads of Seto’s thumb and index finger inevitably touched the bare skin on his neck. An electrifying shiver ran down Yami’s spine and he stepped away as if stung. All the hairs on his body were standing on end. To his mortification, he felt his cheeks burning as he heatedly said, “Stop it! Just what do you think you’re doing?” 

“I’m taking a look down your clothes,” Seto simply replied, standing back and staring down at him innocently. 

Yami seethed. 

“Because that is perfectly normal, of course! You complete _ass_!” 

To his annoyance, it came out too much of a screech and Seto just started laughing at him. 

In his attempt to calm down, while taking a few steps away from the brunet, he stomped towards Honda and Ryuji, who paused whatever they had been doing and glanced up at him. He was aware that his cheeks were burning. He was sure now that it was because he was angry but to others who may have witnessed his exchange with Seto, it might seem it was out of embarrassment, so he made sure to place his most terrifying scowl on his face as he walked away from the brunet who was heading for the cafeteria after successfully managing to piss him off. It was unbelievable how he went from laughing to being livid in a span of less than two minutes. 

“Sensei…” Honda softly mumbled as he approached. Yami glared at him silently, not trusting himself to say a single word now. “Are you alright?” he nodded mutely, grabbing the nearest patient file to religiously start reading it, ignoring everything going on around him for the moment while trying to calm himself. 

He was aware of the whispers Honda and Ryuji exchanged and he felt almost regretful for interrupting them, but decided there was nothing for it now. Ryuji walked away to the observation rooms and Honda hovered awkwardly beside him for a few seconds. 

Yami sighed. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted you both,” he said, taking slow, measured breaths. 

“Wha…no, no, it’s alright, really,” Honda stammered out. Yami felt impossibly worse. The kid looked horrible, now that he had a closer look. Whatever argument was going on seemed to have been important. 

“You and Ryuji alright?” he asked tentatively, his voice dropping to a whisper so that the nearby nurse did not hear him. Honda blinked and looked up at him, face reddening slightly. “It’s none of my business,” he placated, raising a hand. “But I just hope everything works out well.” 

The blush died down on Honda’s face, the embarrassment replaced with a miserable expression. “I hope that as well.” 

Yami turned his attention back to the patient file. It was a case of perforated peptic ulcer that had already had an upper endoscope done for. He absentmindedly noted the young age of the patient, his too low body mass index. The case was a classic. It added relatively nothing to him. But it soothed the rage he had been unable to control. 

Just as he was about to close the file and get up, commotion started up suddenly in the general direction of the emergency room’s entrance. He blinked and stood to get a clearer view. He saw the familiar lights of the ambulance flashing from outside. Ryuji was standing beside the gurney on which the patient was strapped on and Yami could clearly see the collar around his neck and the rigid board he was attached to. 

Making the connection immediately, he jogged towards the commotion consisting of gathered nurses establishing IV accesses, drawing blood and starting fluids and inserting a urinary catheter. Ryuji and his senior staff member were standing next to the gurney as well. He almost reached the gathering when he found Seto falling into step beside him. 

“Trauma patient?” the brunet asked unnecessarily, and Yami nodded. 

They reached the gurney as Ryuji was almost through with assessing the patient’s breathing. Yami stayed back out of his way as he rattled off the findings of his primary survey to his senior resident, who arrived in time with them. 

“Airway patent, breathing rapid, 27 per minute. Chest expansion is normal and breath depth and sounds also normal. Pulse is 120, thready and uneven but equal on both sides and comparable to central pulsations. Blood pressure is 80/60 with signs of shock and delayed capillary refill time. I obtained samples and started him on fluids. GCS 10, blood sugar is 109. Exposure shows Cullen sign but no other visible injuries or bruising.” 

“Get one of the trauma surgeons here,” the senior ER resident was saying. 

Seto pushed his way next to the patient, “We’re here already.” 

Yami was placing a hand on the patient’s wrist, while his other hand was already raising the shirt he was wearing so they could look at his abdomen. Quickly, he scanned the abdomen, noting the absolute stillness of it. There was very, very obvious rigidity and guarding. For the moment, however, he turned his attention to the pulse beneath his fingertips. 

Something wasn’t right. 

It was thready, alright… and it was uneven and irregular, just as Ryuji described. But there was still a pattern to it. A regular irregularity that he only just noticed. He reached over to hold the patient’s other wrist, comparing the pulsations to each other. Yes… there was a pattern and he squeezed his brain to try and make a connection. The pulse was weak beneath his fingertips for a few beats. Then got considerably weaker for a much longer while. 

“What’s going on?” Seto asked from where he was gently palpating the patient’s stomach. 

“Something is wrong with the pulse…” Yami quietly murmured. “Can you hand me a stethoscope?” Ryuji gave him his stethoscope. He placed it in his ears and the diaphragm on the patient’s chest and grabbed his wrist again. And immediately, it clicked. “Pulsus paradoxus. The pulse volume is decreasing whenever he takes in air.” 

Seto paused. There was a distant expression in his blue eyes for a few seconds, then he turned to Ryuji to tell him, “We’ll take the patient from here and do the necessary.” Then he turned to Yami. “Let’s take him to the sonography and I’ll ask Rebecca to take a look at his chest too.” 

Yami nodded. 

Within fifteen minutes, they both stood with Rebecca Hopkins, the radiology specialist on duty today. Her blue eyes were narrowed in utter concentration behind the half-framed glasses she was wearing and she was pointing at the screen of the ultrasound, “There’s free fluid in the abdomen, Yami… I’d say about 500 to 750 ml. There is a Grade 3 laceration to the liver and I don’t like the look of his spleen, either.” 

“We figured as much,” Seto thoughtfully remarked. “I think another laparotomy will be decided. But Rebecca, could you please take a look at the chest cavity?” 

The young blonde looked up at him questioningly, “I thought his chest was free on examination?” 

“Yami detected pulsus paradoxus. And he needs to get an x-ray before we can remove the rigid collar so we can’t check his neck veins.” 

“What are you thinking of?” Yami asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Seto raised a hand to thoughtfully rub his chin, “Significant blunt trauma to the abdomen, after falling from height. Only the abdomen showing signs of internal bleeding but there is shock and pulsus paradoxus. If we can get access to his neck, we will find his neck veins congested.” 

Yami blinked once…and slowly, recognition spread on his features. “Beck’s triad!” he exclaimed. “You think he has cardiac tamponade?!” 

Seto nodded, eyes fixed on the screen of the ultrasound. “I hope I am wrong. But if I am not, I can aspirate the fluid in the OR before the laparotomy and leave him to the cardiothoracic surgeons to repair the actual damage.” 

“Then I suggest start scrubbing up, Kaiba. You’re right,” Rebecca told them, pointing at the screen. “Fixed IVC, right chambers collapsing and there’s variations in inspiratory inflow. It’s tamponade, alright. The fluid is preventing the heart from contracting properly and sending him into shock.” 

Seto was already raising his phone to his ear, waiting for a few seconds until the other end was picked up. “Jonouchi, we have a trauma patient. Came in 15 minutes ago. 30 year old male, fall from third floor and collided with dumpster. Most of the trauma was to the abdomen. Pulse was 120 now 130, blood pressure 80/60 and dropping. Yami found pulsus paradoxus and there is marked rigidity, Cullen sign and ultrasonography shows half a liter collection. But I asked Rebecca to take a look at his chest and she found tamponade. Do we prep for surgery?” 

Yami was placing his stethoscope on the patient’s chest, listening carefully to the heart sounds. They sounded distant and oddly muffled, further proving that there was fluid collecting around the heart. He glanced at his watch, knowing that time was off essence in this case. 

Seto was talking again, “I will carry out the pericardiocentesis in the OR under ultrasound guidance, I’ve done it many times before. We just need a go ahead from the higher ups.” His lips were pursing as he said that last part. 

Yami made a note to himself to make sure he was present while this took place because it was a skill he did not have and it made him stare in awe at Seto for having it. 

“Call me again while I contact Rafael so they could prep the OR. And Jou…” there was a tiny pause in which Seto smirked ever-so-slightly at Yami. “This laparotomy is mine.” 

Yami grinned softly as the brunet hung up. “You can use your precious stapler all you want, Dear.” 

Seto opened his mouth in mock surprise, his long fingers splayed on his chest, “I am your dear? Thanks, Baby!” 

Yami shook his head. 

Rebecca was rolling her eyes, “Stop flirting, Kaiba.” 

“None of your business, midget!” 

“Be careful, Yami… this guy slept with half of Domino already,” she calmly said, wiping down the patient’s skin from the gel she had placed on it to use the probe. 

Yami chuckled and was about to inform her he had been thoroughly warned when Seto protested, “I would like to know who started that rumor about me! Is it you, Hopkins?” 

Yami studied the exchange silently. 

“It’s not a rumor if it’s true, Kaiba,” she said with a tight little smile, eyes narrowing teasingly behind the half-frameless glasses. 

“It isn’t true,” Seto defended. Yami watched in silence as he propped a hand on the edge of the ultrasound’s table and leaned down to invade her personal space. He had to applaud the blonde woman in his mind for her lack of reaction to the sudden closeness. All she did was look up at Seto with a raised eyebrow as he asked, playfully nudging her side-swept bangs slightly, “Have _you_ ever been to my bed, Hopkins?” 

“I can’t say I have, Dr. Kaiba,” she said, expression unchanging, obviously unfazed. 

“See? I haven’t slept with everyone,” Seto smirked, straightening and raising his phone once more. 

While he called the anesthesiologist, Yami stayed completely still and silent. He was trying to clear his head, because this honestly wasn’t the time to stress over Seto’s flirting with the radiology specialist. And quite frankly, there was no logical reason behind the twitch of his hand at seeing Seto leaning so close to her. It just proved his point. Seto was this flirtatious with everyone. There was no reason to get worked up and think he was special or something for being targeted by the seductive brunet. 

He forced himself to calm down and think of the surgery coming up. 

Five minutes passed since Seto hung up with the anesthesiologist and his cell phone rang again. 

“Yes, Jou, do we head for the OR?” he answered. Yami moved towards the door to call the nurse when Seto’s one-sided conversation stopped him, a noticeable tone of anger interspersing the brunet’s words as he asked, “…and why is that…? Wait let me ask him…” Yami raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Can you carry out a pericardiocentesis?” 

Yami shook his head, “I’ve only observed it once and it was eight years ago.” 

Seto turned his attention back to the phone, “No, Jonouchi… I can do it, you know that!” the anger in his voice was rising bit by bit. Yami stayed silent, standing beside Rebecca who was also intently listening as Seto snapped, “Jou, Jou… shut up for a second… yes? Yes… now why the hell would it be okay if Yami did it but not if I do it? No! No, answer me…” there was another pause in which Yami raised an eyebrow in shock and disbelief. “It’s Pegasus, isn’t it? He’s behind this…?”

“The patient will die,” Yami exclaimed angrily, taking a step closer to Seto. His heart was racing uncomfortably. If they didn’t act within thirty minutes maximum, then this patient would most probably, as he predicted, would die. 

“Tell me one good reason why I am not to carry out the procedure, Jonouchi, and you know I do not usually cause you problems; I will calmly wait for a cardiothoracic surgeon to do it, watching the patient die but I will sue him if that happens…” there was a small pause. “No, no, listen to me. If Crawford doesn’t have a good reason for delaying a life-saving procedure, then I will disobey him and do it regardless of the consequences. If he does have a legitimate reason, then and only then, will I stop but rest assured, if the patient passes into refractory shock, I will be testifying against him, Jonouchi.” 

There was another small pause, in which Yami moved towards the door once more, motioning for the orderly and the nurses to start moving the patient to the operating rooms. 

When he returned, Seto was saying, “I will meet you in the OR, Jonouchi.” And he hung up. 

“What the hell is going on?” Yami asked. 

“Pegasus told him that I am not to carry out the pericardiocentesis,” Seto explained, tone snappish, betraying the anger that was burning clearly in his blue eyes. 

“Why? You’ve done it before…” 

“No reason. Just like he didn’t want me on today’s laparotomy,” Seto venomously hissed. Yami blinked, not understanding what was going on. “He told Jonouchi to tell you to do it. If not then we are to wait for the cardiothoracic surgeon, but I am not to touch the patient where the tamponade is concerned…” 

Yami’s mind raced. Seto was going to the OR to do this procedure, against the command of one of the senior-most members of the surgery department’s staff. If this was to happen, then Seto was going to be in serious trouble. Unless… 

“Seto… wait!” he called, stopping in his tracks. The brunet paused, looking back at him and he smiled up at him. “There’s another way…” Seto stared at him questioningly, so he added, “He did say it was alright for me to do it, right?” 

“Yes, but you’ve only seen it done once before,” Seto argued. 

“This is a teaching hospital, Seto,” Yami pointed out. 

Realization dawned in the blue eyes. 

“Teach me.”

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I just thought I’d drop in to add some warnings for mentions of anxiety attacks and poor mental health, in general. If the subject triggers any unpleasant memories or experiences, do skip the chapter please. Much love to all the readers, old ones and new. *mwah*

It was a genius idea. 

He didn’t think it through, though. Didn’t think of its implications, what impression it would leave on everyone else witnessing what was happening, what repercussions it would have later on. But it really was a genius idea that was going to help them avoid a whole big bunch of problems with a senior staff member and he didn’t care about anything right now except what was happening within his own hands at the moment. 

He stood next to the raised operating table. The patient was at a forty-five degree angle, almost half-sitting. There was a nasogastric tube coming out of his left nostril, two IV cannulae inserted, one delivering saline into his body and the other having their blond anesthesiologist standing beside it with the syringe of milky-white propofol poised, injecting it into the bloodstream. 

He waited patiently while the patient was pulled under with the effect of the anesthesia. Rafael called him once, twice and when he didn’t answer on the third time, he inserted the endotracheal tube, connecting it to the oxygen supply and gave them a thumbs up to go ahead with their own work. 

Yami glanced behind him, meeting reassuring blue eyes with his own crimson ones. He took a deep breath and placed his gloved hands on the patient’s chest, identifying anatomical landmarks, counting the ribs and seeking the fifth and sixth ones, then palpating for the xiphoid process. Working quickly, he cleaned the area where he would work, placed the sterile drapes to delineate the site of surgery, being careful not to dislodge the ECG leads. 

Feeling Seto stepping behind him as he readied himself to start, he forced himself to relax, allowing his taller colleague’s arms to wrap around him, gloved hands covering his own, so that, technically, it was Yami who was carrying out the procedure, not Seto. Allowing their motions to become one, they made a small incision in the skin to puncture it, then reached for the spinal needle, attaching a large, 60ml syringe with saline to it and began advancing it into the patient’s body, upwards, towards his left shoulder. 

Their motions were perfectly in sync. Yami had seen this done only once and he had quickly told Seto exactly what he had seen at that time and the brunet had informed him that it was basically the same thing they did here in emergent pericardiocentesis, with only minor changes that he made sure to point out as they scrubbed up next to each other quickly. 

Yami knew the anatomy of the region perfectly and was a bit worried that he and Seto’s approximation of this patient’s anatomy would be off, but he was so wrong. The needle was pushed, their hands injecting the saline periodically to make sure that the pathway towards the heart was patent. 

Seto’s long fingers were splayed along the patient’s right intercostal margin in the same fanning shape as Yami’s own long fingers, his thumb and forefinger resting lightly along Yami’s as he stabilized the angle of the needle at forty-five degrees with the patient’s abdomen. His other hand was holding the portable ultrasound’s probe. 

Their eyes were fixed simultaneously on the screen of the small device. With synchrony that had the operating theater holding their breath in awe, he and Seto took turns. One of them would look at the ultrasound’s screen, while the other observed the ECG trace on the anesthesia monitor. 

The observation room held most of their junior residents. Ryuji was also standing with them, watching with one hand placed over his mouth, concentration on his sharp features and Honda stood next to him, mirroring the expression in the ER resident’s green eyes. Rafael had stepped back from his position near the patient’s head to watch them, his electric blue eyes shifting between them and the ECG trace. 

Yami felt Seto’s hand tighten very gently around his and immediately he paused, eyes fixed on the ECG trace. “There it is,” the brunet whispered to him, not needing to say more than that for Yami to understand. There was an obvious rise in the ST-segment on the trace and Yami held his breath a little and started withdrawing the syringe back slightly, while applying negative pressure by pulling on the plunger. 

Immediately, very bright red fluid was pulled back into the syringe and Yami quickly kept up the negative pressure until the entire 60ml syringe was filled with blood. In a blink, Seto was replacing it with a new syringe. They continued this while gently withdrawing the needle out as more fluid was aspirated, until no more fluid could be drawn and a slight rise in ST-segment could be seen. 

They removed the spinal needle after confirming that the fluid collection around the heart decreased, the heart regaining its normal function on the screen of both the ultrasound and the ECG monitor. 

Yami took a deep breath and found his body, almost imperceptibly, leaning back into Seto’s. He closed his eyes in relief, relishing the warmth and solidness behind him, feeling the adrenaline that was rushing through his body starting to leave it ever-so-slightly with the immediate threat to the patient’s life removed and wanting nothing more at the moment than to appreciate the absolutely amazing way in which they both worked in tandem. 

It wasn’t something he had done since his house-officer year in college. His senior resident had been standing in the exact same way Seto had been standing as he taught him for the first time how to carry out a simple appendectomy. It had been the first time for him to scrub up, the first time to hold a scalpel and the first time anyone had stood so close to him. He had held his hand and showed him how deep he should dig the scalpel in, how smoothly his motions must be. 

But this was different. Seto was different. 

He looked up to stare at his colleague. He found Seto staring back at him, an unreadable expression in blue eyes whose color was barely discernible with how widely his pupils were blown, despite the very bright lights of the room. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments, until they were interrupted by the nurse, who was handing Seto the scalpel so he could make the incision to start the laparotomy, now that the drainage of blood from around the heart was over and done with. 

They put their eyes on the surgery at hand. He could recognize a great surgeon anywhere and Seto was the very best he had seen at work. Yami admired the way Seto’s hands worked. The surgical tools seemed to be an extension of his body. His moves measured, not a single one out of place or excessive to what was needed. They were almost sensual, with how smooth and steady they were, as if he was an artist painting, or a dancer performing. It was difficult to imagine that he didn’t work a lot of laparotomies, that he didn’t have the experience Yami had on this matter. 

They worked in silence, Yami suctioning excess blood, holding clamps and applying the cautery where Seto instructed him to. The bleeding was from lacerations to both the liver and the spleen. They repaired the liver laceration first then turned their attention to the spleen. 

“Tada…” Seto remarked from behind his mask and Yami grinned. 

“What?” he asked, peering over a clamp that was obscuring the view. He laughed loudly when he saw the brunet applying an artery clamp to the splenic artery. 

“Found it!” Seto teased. 

“Good job,” Yami remarked, handing him the non-absorbable suture thread so he could start ligating the artery. He raised an eyebrow challengingly, “Let’s see if you find it this quickly next time. It might be beginner’s luck.” 

The nurse and Rafael both laughed. The blond, broad anesthesiologist shook his head, “You’ve gone and made a challenge out of it, Motou… you better be ready to deal with the consequences of that.” 

Seto looked up and towards the young man, “Well said, Rafael.” Then he turned to Yami. “What ever happened to ‘it is not a competition’?” 

Yami narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “I changed my mind,” he teased, cutting the surgical thread that Seto was holding out to him. “I pride myself on being the very best where anatomy is concerned. Do not even try toppling me over, Kaiba. I won’t let you.” 

“I will thoroughly enjoy doing so, Motou,” Seto promised and Yami chuckled softly. 

They kept working in amiable silence, as Seto finished removing the spleen, made sure that there was no other source of bleeding and started to close the open abdomen. Their good mood was destroyed, however, when the doors to the OR were slammed open with too much force for it to be normal. Yami made sure that his hold on the mosquito forceps was firm and looked over Seto’s shoulder at who it was who just barged into the room with such violence. 

To his annoyance and slight alarm, Pegasus stood glaring at the back of Seto’s head. He was wearing the blue scrubs, his hair disappearing beneath the disposable surgery cap but he didn’t wear a mask or any other protective gear. He looked livid and with his very large, very broad frame, he looked more intimidating than Yami was willing to admit even to himself. 

“Just what do you think you are doing, Kaiba-boy?” 

The question came in the usual drawl that made Yami’s skin crawl and he looked back at Seto, whose eyes hardened ever-so-slightly beneath the protective goggles. Yami didn’t blame him. The man was very annoying. Against his will, he felt like he was once again in his third year, awaiting the exam and couldn’t help the way his heart raced. 

“What does it look like I am doing, Dr. Crawford…? Are you alright?” Seto’s reply was cold. His words were calm and polite. 

“Didn’t I explicitly ask that Dr. Motou carry out the laparotomy?” he snapped, the drawl in his voice disappearing, further proving that it was an intentional, voluntary thing the white-haired man did just to unnerve people. 

Seto smirked lightly, “I thought that meant the laparotomy before this one.” Yami couldn’t react when the brunet glanced up briefly to give him a knowing little smirk and winked ever-so-slightly at him. 

“No, I meant all laparotomies, Kaiba…” the older man seethed. 

“Why?” Seto asked without pausing his work. 

“Because I said so.” 

Seto straightened and looked behind his shoulder, “You can’t do that, Dr. Crawford. There is nothing on my work contract that states that I am not allowed to carry out certain surgeries just because a superior feels like it.” He then turned back to the surgery, adding, “I am pretty sure nothing on _your_ work contract gives you the authority to do that, either.” 

Yami took a fast glance at the quickly reddening features of the white-haired man behind him. He felt his anxiety rising at what was going on around him but he couldn’t do anything about it. He kept his eyes down on the bloody abdominal cavity as the silence persisted for a few more moments in the operating room. 

“Who did the pericardiocentesis?” 

Crawford obviously was trying to pick a fight in any way he could. Yami resisted the urge cringe. 

“I did,” he stated, voice calm, not betraying the panic rising in him and just trying to avoid the problems about to come up if Pegasus thought Seto did it. 

“Dr. Katsuya said you didn’t do it before, Dr. Motou,” Pegasus insisted, raising one eyebrow challengingly. 

Yami looked up to meet the livid hazel gaze from over Seto’s shoulder, “Today was my first attempt. It was quite successful, you should have been watching, Dr. Crawford.” 

“Did you just attempt a life-saving procedure, on a shocked patient, for the first time?” Pegasus snapped, his voice rising an octave with every statement. He really was trying to pick a fight. 

Yami’s heart was thudding too loudly in his ears, almost drowning out an automatic reply that he had no idea how it came out so clear and logical, “This is a teaching hospital, Dr. Crawford. I am an experienced trauma surgeon and I see no reason why I should not take a first attempt at such a skill, supervised…” 

“And who exactly supervised this?” Pegasus asked, eyes narrowing skeptically. 

“Dr. Kaiba was quite a useful instructor. The procedure went very smoo…” Yami was replying when he was interrupted. 

“I explicitly told you to wait for the cardiothoracic surgeon and that Kaiba wasn’t to be involved in this. I will not tolerate this disrespect for seniority from the both of you!” he was outright yelling now. Yami could feel his breath catching, too difficult to draw and chest too tight all of a sudden. 

At that, Seto spoke again, his voice still calm and steady, “Technically, you told Dr. Katsuya that Yami could do it and if he couldn’t, then we are to wait for the cardiothoracic surgeon. And he did it, quite successfully, if I might add. I thought this was an educational institute and nothing prevents Dr. Motou from wanting to learn a new skill. I don’t see how it counts as disrespecting seniority.” 

Yami was getting distracted, gradually his attention sliding away from the bickering duo. His heart rate was racing at the tension that was palpable in the room. He didn’t work well under this kind of tension. He didn’t like people yelling for such trivial matters. He did not like troubles at work that didn’t concern patients. An unexpected hemorrhage, plummeting blood pressure, a patient arresting on the table; those were all stresses he could deal with smoothly. A senior staff member yelling and being a complete ass for absolutely no reason whatsoever…that brought back horrible times that he would rather leave behind and triggered panic that he frankly was rubbish at dealing with. 

His usually dexterous hands froze and there was nothing he could do about it. He was aware that he had left everything related to the surgery and was just staring behind Seto’s back at the senior staff member who was yelling at them both for trying to save this patient’s life. He didn’t realize that he had zoned out for a while, mind racing over what was happening and memories rushing unwanted back to him. 

He was only jerked back to reality with Seto’s voice sternly calling him back and a gloved hand covered his own. He gasped in a breath softly, not realizing he had been holding it. He was hyperventilating now. He took a step back, away from the table. The room was completely silent, everyone’s eyes fixed on him and he knew if he spent one more moment in the room, he would have to face the embarrassment of people witnessing another attack, much worse than the one he just had. 

He deposited the pair of scissors he had been cutting the suture thread with on the table. It was the right thing to do. To carry on the surgery now, even if they had closing the incision left, would be very careless. He took off his bloodied sterile gloves and, since his hands were shaking too badly and he couldn’t breathe properly, he didn’t bother undoing the knot of his disposable gown to take it off, simply ripped it off and throwing it on the floor of the OR, then rushing out of the room without looking back. 

It was only when he was standing shivering in the sharp bite of the cold autumn air that he could gasp in the breaths he couldn’t take back inside. He stood facing the wall of the building, tucked in the privacy of the side of the hospital as he tried –and failed—to regulate his breathing. He wanted to recall all the relaxation exercises he knew by heart and practiced many times before, but it seemed so long ago since something like this happened and he just couldn’t remember where to start. 

Cold sweat beaded on his brow, dampening his hair and increasing his agitation. He gasped out loud, desperate for the satisfaction of normal, regular breaths and unable to calm down enough to reach that state of normal relaxation. It had been so long since something like this happened, he thought to himself, unintentionally pressuring himself into trying harder to control his body but failing, hence falling into a vicious cycle that he was unable to end. 

He didn’t know how much time passed since he exited the building, but his head was now spinning with the overload of oxygen in his blood from too many breaths that his body didn’t utilize and his ears were roaring with an imaginary sound that was just too loud. It was a familiar awful feeling that he thought he was long past. He knew the dizziness would soon become more cold sweat breaking on the rest of his body but he wouldn’t feel it because heat would envelop the back of his neck and travel down his spine. Then a darkness would come that thankfully stayed his uneven, rapid heartbeat, from which he would return bruised and aching, but mercifully calmer and able to take in air like normal people. He was just hoping that that darkness came quickly, because the feeling of drowning while so dry was one of the worst he ever went through, especially with how unexpected it was. 

However, this time was different. 

The roaring sound that deafened him to anything other than the sound of his pants and his heartbeat masked the sound of footsteps approaching. He wasn’t aware of someone close by except when a broad hand was placed on his shoulder, an arm wrapping around his body to turn him around. He wasn’t aware of anything right now except the solidity of the warmth next to him and he took advantage of it, leaning his weight against it and beginning to slide to the ground softly. The beautiful, calming warmth and the faint scent of sandalwood that reassured him that whoever was behind him meant him no ill-intention, followed him down to the ground and he felt something rough placed on his mouth and nose. 

A burst of enlightenment appeared in his panic riddled mind. Instinctively, depending on intuition developed from many times of doing this many years ago, his hand rose, holding the paper bag with desperation to his mouth and nose, breathing into it. 

He had taken just five breaths when he felt the broad hand covering his own, firmly forcing him to lower the bag. He would have protested if he could. He was still hyperventilating. A few seconds passed then the paper bag was raised once more and he held onto it as if for dear life. The cycle repeated for a few more times when he started to finally calm down. 

Slowly, he was becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He was seated on the concrete ground, propped up against the wall of the building, his legs tucked to one side beneath him and growing dead quickly. He pulled them from under him, bending one of his knees and letting his other leg stretch out in front of him. His body was aching dully. The heat that had started spreading through him before dissipated, leaving him frozen underneath the sheen of cold sweat. His hair was stuck to his forehead, drying. He was wearing just the pair of scrubs he had on inside in the warmed interior of the hospital and when he rushed out, he hadn’t bothered grabbing a jacket or anything and was really feeling the crisp autumn wind biting at him ruthlessly. 

He shivered, as the frantic need for air dissipated and he became more and more aware of how cold he was. He closed his eyes, still clutching the paper bag close to his chest as his breathing exercises and tips all came back to him and he started to regulate it now that he calmed down. 

The body next to him shifted closer, the arm around him tucking him nearer and he has never felt more grateful. He allowed himself to lean his head on the familiar, impossibly broad shoulder that could belong to only one person and he continued nursing his defective breathing with the bag until he was sure that he was not going to fall into the blackness he had previously anticipated. His hand fell beside him, holding the crumpled bag, but otherwise, he didn’t raise his head from where it was propped against Seto. He didn’t want to move away from the warmth. He also didn’t want the confrontation that was coming next to take place yet. He knew Seto was going to make it happen, so he didn’t raise his head, wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. 

He felt the muscles beneath him shift and his heart raced just a tiny bit as he realized that this was it, now. 

However, when Seto nudged him slightly, it was not to ask what had happened. He didn’t pester him with questions, didn’t demand, didn’t force anything. He simply placed a hand on his upper arm, saying, “C’mon, Yami. Jonouchi told us to go home for today. Let’s get our things and leave.” 

Gently, he was helped up to his feet. He took a few moments to stabilize himself on his own feet without support. He took one final deep breath and nodded mutely, walking side by side with Seto back inside the hospital building. He was about to send himself into another fit, his frenzied mind making him imagine every single person they met on the way to their lockers staring at him like they just witnessed what just happened, in the OR and outside the building. He forced himself to relax and continue the same pattern of breathing. 

They stood in front of the elevators waiting silently. The ding signifying its arrival made itself known over the sound of his thoughts and he walked in, turning and leaning against the back of the elevator and closing his eyes. He stayed that way until he felt Seto’s hand reaching for his and squeezing it slightly. 

Yami opened his eyes and looked up at him to finally meet the blue eyes that stared down at him. There was panic in them, concern and just a hint of something else that Yami couldn’t determine at the moment. He looked away, staring ahead at his distorted reflection of the closed elevator doors. “I’m fine. Sorry I worried you,” he said, his voice coming out strangely level and normal. 

Seto didn’t reply. But he kept holding his hand until the elevator reached the third floor where the surgery department was located, as well as their offices and lockers. He let go when the doors opened but stayed close as they walked to the lockers. 

He gathered his things silently, taking off the surgical cap and throwing it in the trash. He was painfully aware of Seto’s eyes on him every once in a while and he studiously tried to ignore them as much as he could. He was trying to quickly put his things back in his backpack so he could just leave and end this frankly shit day. He zipped the bag closed and swung it on his shoulder, ready to flee. 

“Wait,” Seto asked him and he felt like groaning, but knew it would be completely unacceptable for him to ignore the brunet. He stopped by the door, expecting some pep talk or something to make him uncomfortable. It was no wonder he jumped slightly when he felt Seto holding his upper arm and turning him around, then placed a white, woolen knit scarf around his neck and pulling the hood of the jacket he was wearing up to cover his multi-colored hair. “You’ll catch a cold,” the brunet remarked and Yami was too stunned to say anything. 

It was why he didn’t do anything when Seto’s large hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him out of the locker room and towards the elevators once more. He kept walking numbly, Seto’s hand now just resting gently in the crook of his elbow, guiding him. A small, niggling part within him was grateful that the brunet made sure not to drag him behind him like a lost kid or something. He didn’t know if he had let go of his wrist and opted for the hand on his elbow on purpose, or if it was pure accident. He was just grateful. 

He was dwelling on it until he realized he was standing in front of the passenger’s seat of an unfamiliar car. An unfamiliar, very expensive, very sleek car that obviously didn’t belong to him and if he kept slaving at work forever, he probably wouldn’t be able to afford anyway. His eyebrows knit together in confusion for a few moments, then he realized what was going on when Seto opened the door for him. 

“What the hell, Kaiba?! _This_ is what you drive to work every day?” he asked, momentarily forgetting the events of the day in favor of eyeing the very lavish looking Cadillac. It was the kind of car he saw in movies and didn’t believe even existed in real life. 

Seto laughed. Yami was distracted by the sound that he found exceedingly pleasant to his ears. 

“Just get in and I promise I’ll let you drive it around when we’re less strung up than we are today,” he offered, pointing at the extremely sleek interior of the car. 

Yami looked up at him. He wanted to say no, turn him down and head to his own car so he could go home and nurse himself back to something resembling normal again after what happened today. It was so difficult, though. He was too tired and he just didn’t feel like arguing. Silently, he found himself getting inside the car, ignoring the voice of reason and ignoring the other trivial voice at the back of his mind, telling him that he was getting his car seat opened for him like some girl. 

He sat silently in the seat, feeling out of place and his hands fiddled with the bag that he had placed on his lap. His face was buried up to his nose in Seto’s glorious scent and he didn’t know if it was car’s scent that had its owner’s fragrance stuck in it or if it was the scarf wrapped securely around his neck. He waited patiently, trying not to breathe in too deeply, until Seto got in as well. 

They sat in absolute stillness for a few moments. 

“Did you use your precious stapler?” Yami attempted weakly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

Seto smiled and shook his head, “Honda scrubbed up and closed up the patient. He probably wanted to practice to one day break your time stitching up patients using subcut sutures.” 

Yami grinned lightly, a little bit nervously at that. 

Silence enveloped them once again, until Seto placed the keys in their hole by the steering wheel. 

“Where are we going?” he asked. 

“Well, I was going to drive you home,” Seto replied, pausing slightly. Yami mentally slapped himself. “We can go somewhere else if you want.” 

“No…no,” he said. “It’s fine,” he added as an afterthought. 

“So where do you live?” Seto asked, bringing the car to a start that sounded more like a purr than the normal revving sound of the engines of any other car he’d ever been inside. 

“Err…” he unintelligently started, jerking himself from the stupor of completely being in awe of a car. Seto was pulling out of the parking spot, driving towards the exit of the garage as he finally could string comprehensible sentences again. “It’s a few blocks from the coffee shop. Take us there and I’ll tell you which way to go.” 

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, until they stopped in a bit of traffic, waiting for a red light. 

“Are you hungry?” Seto asked, breaking the silence. 

The crackers and apple juice seemed like a lifetime ago. That, and the familiar ache that was spreading through his body after his little ‘episode’ was making the need for food worse. “Yeah,” he replied. 

“Would you like to go somewhere have dinner first?” Yami glanced sideways at him. “Really, just dinner and I won’t tease you about it with Jonouchi later,” the brunet quickly amended, smiling and looking back at him. 

He wanted to say yes… but they were in scrubs that they both haven’t bothered to change out of and smelled of latex and blood. That, and Yami was just too tired. 

Regretfully, he said, “I am tired. I just want to go home.” He could feel Seto’s eyes on him so he too, had to do a bit of reassurance. “I really mean it,” he said. It didn’t feel enough. He sounded ungrateful to his own ears, as if he was being rude. “I… err… I think it’s better not to go out tonight. I am tired, not trying to just be difficult or anyth…” 

“Yami… Yami…” Seto interrupted his rant. He swallowed and looked at him. “It’s okay…” he said, casting a glance towards him. “Mokuba used to have panic attacks when we were in the orphanage. I know the drill. Don’t worry about it, okay? I really was just offering that we eat.” Yami’s heart, which he hadn’t noticed had started to dangerously race once more, calmed considerably. “I’m hungry too,” the brunet added as an afterthought and Yami smiled nervously as well. 

“We can… We can order some pizza,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Seto glanced at him again. “We’ll order some pizza. Stay for dinner.” 

It was a spontaneous idea and he found himself trying to remember if he had something or the other strewn messily somewhere at home, thanking every deity he knew that he had recently tidied up the house when Seto agreed. 

They spent the rest of the trip to his house in companionable silence, except for Yami’s directions to his place. When they arrived, Yami unlocked the front door, walking in and holding it open for Seto. “Make yourself at home,” he said with a little smile, hanging the keys on the hanger next to the door. 

Seto walked in, glancing around him curiously. Yami let him be, depositing his backpack on the couch in the living room after switching on the lights. He took out his water bottle and the change of clothes he was supposed to change into before leaving the hospital and had another idea. 

“Listen, if you have a change of clothes, why don’t you take a shower and change while we wait for the pizza to get here?” he asked, looking up at Seto, who had been staring with interest at a picture of him and Yugi with their grandfather. 

“Err… is that alright?” Seto asked. 

“Yeah, yeah… we both smell like too much blood for it to be healthy,” Yami said. He took Seto’s hand, guiding him to the guest bathroom. “Go on, I’ll get you some towels,” he said, switching on the lights and letting his unexpected guest walk into the room. 

He left him and headed for the cupboard in the hallway that held all the extra towels and blankets and all the other house textiles. He paused a second, about to grab one of the creamy-white towels, then changed his mind with the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck and grabbed the dark blue set above it. It was a little, private treat to himself. He knew the blue would probably look so much better on Seto’s perfectly milky skin than the white. He allowed himself the little pleasure of the mental image. 

He just managed to get his flush under control when he knocked on the ajar bathroom door. He didn’t expect it to swing open and reveal Seto in just the bottoms of his blue scrubs, with his upper body in all its glory bare to his eyes. And glorious it was, he thought to himself as his eyes devoured the perfection before him. Flawless skin he had only just imagined just moments ago with impossibly defined muscles rippling lazily beneath it. It wasn’t so difficult to imagine the brunet swam for exercise, with how ridiculously broad his shoulders were, surrounding strong pectorals and tapering beautifully to a narrow waist. The distance between them was adorned with something out of a fashion magazine with the very clearly defined six pack fading into a delicious V that had him swallowing with difficulty. 

Jerking himself out of the staring stupor he had passed into, he flushed in mortification and didn’t even bother hiding it. He looked away, handing Seto the towel, stammering out, “S…Sorry… there you go. Let me know if you need anything else…” 

Seto chuckled lightly and Yami’s cheeks burned hotter with embarrassment. “It’s okay, everything’s good.” 

And he disappeared back inside, this time closing the door properly. 

Yami fanned a hand in front of his face, trying to get rid of the flush that just wouldn’t go away. He reprimanded himself for his complete lack of control as he headed to his room so he could grab a change of clothes and jump into the shower as well. It didn’t matter that Seto’s body was just too attractive, that if he wasn’t already bisexual, he would have become so just seeing it. He adjusted the temperature to a cold one, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable stirring of desire making itself known at an inopportune time. 

He finished showering quickly, dressed into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. He stood drying his hair before he put on his top, staring at his own reflection in the mirror critically. He sighed and pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over the top of his head, loudly scolding himself, “Get real, Motou.”

He walked out, finding that his guest was still in the bathroom. He went around, tidying little things that were out of place, folding the white scarf Seto gave him and placing it aside to give it to the brunet before he left and generally busying himself with trivial stuff, until Seto emerged from the bathroom, drying his brown hair and thankfully completely dressed in a pair of jeans and a white fine-knit, v-necked pullover. 

Yami tried not to flush or stare at the gorgeous clavicles and the honestly beautiful neck. 

“Did you order yet?” the brunet asked, thankfully distracting him from what promised to become an awkward moment.

“Err… no,” Yami said, grabbing his cell phone. “I didn’t know what toppings you liked… or if you actually eat normal portions like us, normal humans,” he added the last part with a sideways smile. 

“I eat a whole pizza by myself,” Seto defensively said, taking a seat on the comfortable black leather sofa. 

“See? That’s not what normal humans eat,” Yami grumbled, enviously eyeing his taller colleague’s body. 

Seto laughed and again, Yami found himself distracted by the very pleasing sound. “My offer still stands. Just as long as you get swimming briefs.” 

Yami shook his head, scrolling through his contacts for the pizza place’s number. “What do you want on your pizza?” 

“Just get me a pepperoni with stuffed crust. Tell him not to add any peppers.” 

Yami glanced up at him, “Who does that?” 

“Apparently, every pizza place in Domino,” Seto lazily replied, pulling his impossibly long legs to tuck them beneath him on the sofa. “I hope you don’t mind,” he added as an afterthought, sinking back into the insanely comfortable piece of furniture –Yami knew just how comfy it was—and generally relaxing. 

“No, I don’t,” Yami reassured him. He got up and walked towards the hallway so he could call the pizza place and ordered. He made sure to stress that they didn’t want any peppers on theirs, told the kid on the other end the address and was told that their order would arrive within half an hour to forty-five minutes. He hung up and returned to the living room. 

Seto was looking down at his phone. He looked up when he reappeared, typing something in as Yami opened the curtains so they could have a view of the sea and switched it off as he took a place on the other end of the sofa, he too pulling his legs up, bending his knees and leaning them on the leather back of the sofa. 

“Now that is a view I don’t have at the Mansion,” Seto remarked appreciatively, staring at the floor to ceiling window. 

“Bastard… you live in a mansion and you still don’t like it,” Yami automatically bit back. 

Seto looked at him with a smirk and he just giggled tiredly, he too sinking down and relaxing. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, enjoying the ease with which it came and went, unlike just an hour or so ago. He tried not to think about it, or about the utter embarrassment he brought himself by freezing up like some rookie with a patient’s abdomen splayed open before him. He opened his eyes, staring at the far edge of the coffee table with a thoughtful look, trying to decipher what he will do since—with Pegasus witnessing the whole spectacle and the fact that he didn’t exactly like him very much— he was most probably about to lose his job due to anxiety that he was just too weak to keep under control. 

“Jonouchi gave us tomorrow off as well. We don’t need to show up for the surgery list or clinic hours,” Seto’s voice broke through the cloud of self-criticism that hung in his mind. He shifted his eyes towards the brunet who smiled evilly, suggesting, “We can go out on a date tomorrow!” 

Yami ignored the last bit. 

“Are we getting fired?” he asked instead. 

“Not you… maybe me,” Seto told him with a chuckle. Yami raised an eyebrow. “Pegasus hates my guts, Yami.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. It was Seto’s turn to raise an eyebrow questioningly. “It was my idea to go ahead and do the procedure. I got us both into trouble and made things worse. I didn’t mean for that to happen at a…” 

He stopped when Seto straightened quickly and reached for him, placing a hand on his knee. “Yami, stop…” he sternly said. Yami bit back the rest of the mindless rant he was slipping into and shifted his eyes from the long-fingered, slender hand on his body to the concerned blue eyes. “Crawford has a problem with me. It doesn’t matter what you did today and trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong. Today’s temper tantrum would have happened even if we left the patient to die like he wanted us to.” 

Yami held his eyes for a while, then looked away. He couldn’t stand the look of concern anymore. It reminded him of today’s earlier spectacle and his face burned with the humiliation of recalling it very clearly in his mind’s eye. 

“Jeez, Yami,” Seto groaned. “Is that why you’ve frozen up and gone and given yourself a panic attack? Over goddamn Pegasus and his childishness?” 

Yami’s eyes flared in anger, “I didn’t go and _give myself_ a panic attack. In case you’ve never gone through a psychiatry round during school, I don’t exactly get to choose when to have an attack. Spare me one more false misconception about what I go through.” 

The brunet sat back. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Yami glared at him. “I am really sorry, that came out wrong. I know you didn’t mean for that to happen. I just don’t think Pegasus is important enough to cause such a reaction.” 

“Being one of the senior-most members of the department’s staff makes him significantly important,” Yami remarked dully. He paused, then burst out, unable to stop himself from reprimanding himself out loud, “And I just had to go and freeze up like some novice, as if I’ve never held a scalpel in my life!” 

Seto shook his head, “I am more concerned by the attack you had outside the hospital, than I am about you freezing up during a surgery.” 

“What happens outside the OR is irrelevant,” he dismissed. 

“No, it’s not irrelevant. Freezing up is not a problem…” 

Yami snorted incredulously. “Whoever was present in the room will never trust me with a loop of prolene anymore… never mind a major trauma surgery.” 

“I don’t think one time freezing up during a surgery when a madman is yelling would make people forget that you are the record holder of best time on a lap-procedure Yami,” Seto joked. Yami half-heartedly gave a small sideways smile. “Pegasus knew this could happen. That’s why he stood yelling in the middle of an OR, Yami.” 

“So basically I just walked right into what he wanted?” Yami shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. 

“No, but right now, you are giving him what he wants, drowning in self pity like that,” Seto replied, raising an eyebrow and his voice. Just a little bit to sound exasperated and quite frustrated, but not outright yelling or losing his natural unruffled and cool attitude. 

He sat back and Yami looked away. They stayed silent, taking their breath after the really awkwardly-going discussion that was unavoidable after the day’s events, yet so clearly unwanted by both of them. It was obvious Seto was, like him, not a fan of open, heartfelt conversations. But he also knew when they needed to take place. 

“Crawford thinks that we will compete with him in the private work,” Seto spoke once again. Yami shifted his eyes to him. “The little private clinics and hospitals. He thinks we will take his place. And we will, if we want to. But we don’t. He doesn’t know that, so he is trying his hardest to either get any one of the younger staff members fired, or harass them enough to leave work and move elsewhere. I was just with Jonouchi on the phone and he told me Pegasus was just trying to get him to fire you for freezing up.” 

Yami’s heart sped. “So I _am_ getting fired?” he asked miserably. After going through so much shit moving to Japan, too… 

“No, you’re not listening to me,” Seto once again snapped in frustration. “I said, ‘trying’. Jonouchi ripped him a new one, as a result. In fact, he will be reporting the yelling and complete abuse of power he is exercising over the younger members of the staff. I am not telling you this to make you fret over the possibility of losing your position, because you won’t. What happened today is not how things are done here. I am telling you this because you need to know that since you aren’t doing anything ethically or medically wrong, then you don’t have to let a screaming, immature old man drive you into the state you were in today. We have your back as long as your aim is first and foremost, to do no harm…” 

His words were firm, voice calm and eyes fixed on Yami’s. There was nothing there but determination in the endless blue pools before him. he could do nothing but trust the words. He took a deep breath and nodded quickly. 

“Alright?” Seto stressed. 

Yami nodded again, “Yeah, yeah… okay.” 

The brunet nodded back. He too, sat back against the other arm of the sofa. The silence hung heavy and suffocating in the living room for a minute or so. Yami wanted to say something, but whenever he decided what exactly to say, he would hold back. The moment didn’t seem right and what he wanted to say didn’t sound right. He had a feeling Seto was going through the same dilemma. 

Finally, the silence was broken. 

“Mokuba used to be triggered by the sound of motorcycles on the street,” Seto said. He was staring out of the window at the dark sea before them. “He was bullied in the orphanage when I wasn’t with him. I still don’t understand the connection between the panic attacks he had, the bullying he went through and the sound of motorcycles. I probably never will.” 

Yami didn’t say anything. There was a distant look on the handsome features before him. There was something painful in the sight before him but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The privacy of what Seto was saying could not be tainted by looking away right now. 

“I understand that the tension and yelling today may have triggered something that I don’t know anything about. I just want you to know that it’s alright. We’ve all had our moments and it doesn’t make you any less brilliant at what you do, okay?”

Yami just stared at him. he couldn’t do anything else. It was exactly what he needed to hear, especially from Seto. He’d had many, many panic attacks before. He was alone for most of them. Some people were witnesses to the rest. Many of them didn’t help him because they didn’t know what to do. The rest didn’t help for entirely different, entirely heartless reasons. Only very few times that could be counted on the fingers of one hand, his brother was present for an attack and helped him out. Today, Seto had helped him out even though he had no obligation to do that. He left a surgery unfinished to come after him and was now sitting there have this awkward talk just to make him feel better. 

“Yami, do you understand that?” Seto repeated, obviously determined to get an answer out of him. 

Yami blinked once, twice… then looked away, feeling a highly-alarming, vaguely familiar feeling of flutters in his chest that promised so many things that he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. It didn’t help at all, when Seto leaned forward to reach for his hand, hold it and squeeze it gently, tugging slightly until he was forced to meet the blue eyes once again… 

“Do you understand that, Yami?” he insisted. 

He forced himself to reply. “Yes…” he whispered out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, I understand.” 

The brunet smiled and nodded, “Good… you’re a bit dumb when it comes to such matters, it seems.” 

The flutter disappeared and he scowled, “Keep talking and I’ll sock your pretty face, Kaiba.”

At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. Yami got up to answer it, grabbing his wallet on the way and shaking his head when he heard Seto calling at his back, “So you _do_ think I’m pretty!”

 

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*


	7. Chapter 7

Yugi called him a few days later to tell him their grandfather passed away. 

He had taken the news calmly. The old man had been ill. A chronic liver disease patient and just a year ago he was diagnosed with liver cancer. He had been suffering very badly. He was now in a better place. It didn’t stop him from crying a little over it. He had wanted to say goodbye but Yugi had called him right after it happened and while Yami was informing Jonouchi that he was taking a week off to attend the funeral, they were already burying the old man. Yami wanted to be there for it but knew that the flight from Japan to Egypt would take too long. The weather was hot there at that time of the year… Yami couldn’t dream of asking them to keep the old man in a morgue’s fridge until he got there. They had to lay him to the ground as soon as they could. 

Yugi was the one who picked him up from the airport. They hugged, Yugi patting him on the back of his head gently as he sniffled slightly with the tears that ran down his face, which looked tired and ashen from the thirteen hour flight. He knew he was about to look a lot worse because of the hideous effects of jetlag on his sleep and his general energy levels. He tried not to think about that and sank into the passenger’s seat, reclining the chair back and got some sleep while Yugi drove to their little hometown an hour away from Cairo. 

Once they arrived, Yami had gone up to his old room, changing into a black shirt and a pair of black trousers after washing his face and combing his hair. He descended the stairs, sighing a little to himself in preparation and stepping inside the large reception area. 

He and Yugi stood with their father accepting condolences from hundreds of people who came to offer them. Relatives and acquaintances and other public relations that he knew couldn’t be bothered with the old man who just died but showed up just to keep good affairs with his father, now promoted to become head of the hospital he was working at. 

He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to stand there and greet these strangers. He was sure Yugi didn’t either. Not only were they complete strangers… people gave themselves the right to go deeper than the ‘I am sorry for your loss’ they came to say. They couldn’t just say it and ask about their general health, make a comment about the weather or country politics, then just leave. No, they gave themselves the right to ask Yami when he was going to settle down. They commented that he was almost in his mid-thirties now, he needed to start a family. They went as far as suggesting a few… ‘candidates’. 

It was difficult to try and prevent himself from being outright insulting. To say that it was no one’s business. To swear colorfully at the way these men treated their daughters like commodity. It was made even more difficult because he was already upset at his grandfather’s departure. 

It was impossible, however, to hold back when he heard what was being said to Yugi. They way they made sure to frown at him in mock confusion, feigning bad memory and asking what he was studying. The grimace of fake sympathy when he replied he was a psychology student at their local faculty of arts and humanities, followed by a sideways amazed glance at Yami then the cluck of their tongues and shake of their heads… 

It made Yami want to throw them out on their asses. 

Luckily, Yugi had grabbed hold of his arm, squeezing it firmly whenever he would almost convulsively move towards whoever idiot stood before them. “Calm down, Yami… don’t make a scene. We’ll talk later on.” 

He bit on his lip and endured. He had forgotten these unpleasant aspects of life in Egypt. Where everyone deemed themselves worthy of simply involving themselves in his life. Offering advice that was downright inadequate and ineffective, because simply, people wanted him to do what they wanted him to do. To conform to what was right in their point of view, regardless whether he would be happy about it or not. He wasn’t the ‘normal’ kind. Problematic, unpredictable. He pissed them off even more because he was successful. But not by following the route they wanted him to follow. Graduate, get a higher degree, find some poor unfortunate girl to marry through an arranged liaison between families… have a kid every year and open up a clinic where he would sit sucking money off of people while he got fatter and his pockets heavier and his cars fancier. He didn’t fit into that picture and hence they tried harder every time they saw him to persuade him to catch up to what they thought was normal. 

Yugi was just as different. He had gotten very high scores in high school. If he had wanted, he too would have gotten into med-school like Yami. Maybe dentistry if he had wanted to be a bit different. Instead, and with their grandfather’s encouragement, he had applied for a psychology major. It had been a big fight with their parents who had wanted to place Yugi in med-school as well. Yami remembered that he and their grandfather had stood with Yugi until their parents had backed down. Especially as Yami calmly told them to back off, since their idea of forcing him into something he hadn’t wanted to study almost ended in a disaster and what they considered a scandal. 

Yami had talked to Yugi though. He told him that people were going to compare between them. He would always be looked down upon and they would consider his major in psychology a failure, when compared to his brother who was studying medicine. He told him to expect stupid comments and frustrating mentalities. 

It was funny because now he was the one having trouble dealing with these harassments and Yugi was the one trying to placate him. 

“Japan is doing a number on your self control,” Yugi jokingly told him as they stepped outside their house at a little past ten in the evening. Yami smiled softly and placed his hands in the pockets of his jeans as they fell into step beside each other. “I’d thought getting away from patients here would make you calmer.” 

“It rather decreased my tolerance for idiots,” Yami mumbled a bit sheepishly and Yugi laughed good-naturedly. “And decreased my tolerance for the heat,” he added with a little complaining voice. 

“You poor thing. Your head and entire body must be screwed over well and good,” Yugi commented and launched into a tirade of how amazing it must be to have winter starting in Japan when it was the start of the summer season in Egypt. 

He was smiling and looking ahead at the well-known path they took so many times over the years. Yami stared at him, letting the sight of his younger brother’s familiar smile fill the gaps within him at the lack of nostalgic feelings at being back home. It was one of the very few things he missed during his time away, aside from his grandfather’s wrinkly hands. 

He turned to look at the road, the smile lingering on his own features as they walked in companionable, comfortable silence after Yugi was done chitchatting about unexciting, simple matters that probably didn’t require that much of his attention. They were heading to their favorite coffee place. It was a customary outing. Coffee and a walk. So familiar; so effortless. 

“I’m going to have to pass on the coffee, though,” Yami told him. Yugi raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to sleep. Jetlag is killing me,” he explained. 

“I think you’ll need some coffee, Yami…I need to talk to you about something,” Yugi informed him. Yami felt his stomach tying itself in knots. “Seriously relax. It’s nothing bad,” Yugi quickly told him. His brother knew him too well. 

“I don’t like the ‘we need to talk’ statement,” Yami told him. 

“I know. It’s nothing bad, really…” 

“Then what is it?” he insisted. 

Yugi remained silent for a few more moments. He then sighed, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans as well in an action that mirrored Yami’s. “Grandpa gave me a bit of money right after you left,” he started. Yami stared at him in silence. He sighed. “I applied for a transfer in schools.” 

“Oh…” Yami exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you didn’t like it here…” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Yugi shook his head. 

They stood at a green light, waiting for the cars to pass them by. Yami noted absentmindedly the way people broke the lights, how cars almost collided and how disasters almost happened right in front of them. He noted that he and Yugi were the only ones actually waiting until the ‘Walk’ lights turned green. Even when they did turn green, they were almost run over once by a biker who was trying to break the red light. 

“I am tired, Yami…” Yugi resumed once they were safely on the other end of the road. “You saw for yourself today and you couldn’t control yourself for a moment there and you’ve only had to deal with people for a few hours. I am tired of always trying to either prove them wrong, or that I love my major. Ignoring them also takes an effort that I thought would be easy but it turned out to be a lot more difficult especially as everyone just thinks I am less than you.” 

Immediately, Yami’s face heated up. He was indignant. “I don’t think you’re less than me!” he heatedly defended. 

“I know that, Yami…” Yugi placated. “Don’t get all sensitive about it now. And don’t go over thinking matters like you usually do. I know you can be an ass to yourself sometimes so just don’t.” 

Properly admonished over his instinctual reaction, Yami felt his ears turning red slightly. They were almost at the coffee shop when Yami asked, “So where do you want to go now? Are you changing your major or just schools? Do you need me to extend my vacation to help you move?” 

Yugi laughed, the sound pleasing and so, so calming, Yami missed it so much. “No need… I’ve applied to a school in Japan, Yami. I will have to borrow your expression and tell you that Egypt doesn’t really hold much for me anymore. It’s time to move on.” 

Yami had stopped in his tracks. It was sudden and someone almost walked face first into him. He was too stunned to really reply to the insult that was thrown at him. Yugi walked back to where he stood stunned and pulled at his arm, forcing him to walk once again, shaking his head and muttering about rude people and throwing insults and a bunch of shit Yami didn’t really care about. 

“You’re coming with me?” he numbly asked, a smile slowly forming on his dumbfounded features. 

“Unless you don’t want me to, yes, I am,” Yugi replied as they stood in front of the cashier. 

Yami was distracted by the young man behind the marble counter who welcomed him back to Egypt, asking after his health, his work, the reason he returned. A good kid, a law student in another governorate in Egypt, working part time in this coffee shop. Yami answered politely, amiably. He always liked this young man; his love for peculiar music, the way he religiously collected bohemian styled little trinkets and the loving way with which he grew succulents and cacti. He fondly asked him if he still grew them and the young man enthusiastically launched into an avid description of all the new species he was attempting to nurture. 

They ordered two lattes and Yami gracefully accepted the kid’s request to take one of the little, cute cacti with him back to Japan. It made him feel a bit happy but also very sad, when he was told it was something to remember this little coffee shop by, after the many good things and bad things it had witnessed. It had been here that he first received Jonouchi’s email that approved of his research request and his CV. It had also been here when he received the news that he had graduated with good grades. The same place was witness to a violent breakup that he had chosen its location very carefully, because when things got ugly, this very kid and his coworkers came to his help him without asking too many questions and with nothing but concern on their faces. 

They took their drinks and went to the bar by the wall, climbing onto two of the stools and sat sideways so they could face one another while they emptied a bag of brown sugar each into the Styrofoam cups, stirring it in with the drink using the disposable wooden stirrers. Silence predominated for a few moments as they savored the first sip of their coffee. 

“If you think I am being too clingy and chasing you around, I promise you won’t notice my presence if you like,” Yugi broke the quiet that settled between them. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Yugi,” Yami beamed brightly at him. “I don’t think you’re clingy at all. I am so happy this is happening. I am just surprised. Why Japan?” 

“I already know the language,” Yugi easily replied. “It’s a lot easier that way. Instead of learning a new language from scratch.” 

Yami nodded softly. “Mom and dad are okay with this?” 

Yugi shrugged, “Does it really matter?” Yami pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows just a little bit. “Stop worrying about what they think for a while, Yami. I am just focused on what’s good for me right now. I don’t have to live the life they want anymore.” 

Yugi’s tone was calm. There was no anger in it but Yami knew he was hiding something beneath that peaceful façade. 

“I still think you should ask what they…” he started arguing, only to have Yugi slamming down the Styrofoam cup on the counter with more force than necessary, effectively cutting off the protest he was voicing. 

“If I ask what they think, they think it’s a very good idea to stay here and drive me into depression the same way they did to you, Yami.” Yami blinked and looked away, his face reddening slightly. Yugi wasn’t done, however. “The only way you survived is when you got away from them. And even then, I saw for myself the after-effects of all the time you spent around them and what it did to you. Forgive me, but after Grandpa passed away, I don’t think I want anything to do with this place any more, Yami. And definitely, it’s not their approval that I will seek before making that decision.” 

Once more, Yami nodded. He could understand, really. He tried to get his embarrassed flush at the mention of his unattractive mental health under control and turned his attention to his coffee as well as the café and its customers. It was a favorite activity of his; watching people come and go, some lingering to sip at their drink languidly, some hurrying out the door once it was ready. He listened to snippets of mindless chatter. Not to eavesdrop, no, but to let his imagination run. It was very relaxing. 

Yugi interrupted the activity by tugging on his arm. He looked at him questioningly, noting the apologetic look on his brother’s soft, gentle features. “I am sorry… I’m not yelling at you. Or saying that you’re crazy,” Yami smiled widely at that and the younger man laughed. “Maybe you are.” Yami raised one eyebrow. “Hell, Yami, you’re bat-shit crazy, alright? You know I adore you anyway,” Yugi giggled out. 

“You better…” he calmly said. It was an old joke. Weirdly he didn’t mind when Yugi called him crazy to his face with a smile. He felt uncomfortable, however, when it was discussed on a more serious note. Even though Yugi was present through a lot of his struggles with his poor psychological wellbeing, but Yami just didn’t feel very well discussing the matter unless it was in a joking context. 

“How have you been doing, anyway…?” 

Yami plastered a big smile on his face, “I’ve been great…” 

“Seriously, don’t be an ass,” Yugi deadpanned. Yami’s smile faltered slightly. “How have things been going over there?” the younger man’s voice was suggestive. He shrugged. Yugi swore and Yami adoringly shook his head at his younger brother’s colorful vocabulary. “How many times…?” 

“Don’t worry, Yugi. It was just once and I had help,” Yami reassured, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “Things were hectic at work and it was too much. But everything was alright in the end, so don’t worry about it.” 

Yugi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Had…help? From who?” 

“A friend,” Yami replied quickly. Too quickly and Yugi was just too damn perceptive for his own good. He noticed the rush in his words and his reddening ears and the avoidance in his eyes. 

“Tell me everything!” the childish excitement in his voice had Yami shaking his head. 

“There’s nothing to tell, so calm down,” he hushed, trying to contain the thrilled expression on Yugi’s face before it went out of control. “Really, Yugi, it’s just a friend, alright, there’s no need to get so worked up,” he dismissed in a tone of voice that he hoped wouldn’t inspire any more questions from Yugi. He then quickly changed the subject, “So when are you moving? And where exactly will you be staying?” 

“Well…don’t be mad, okay?” Yugi uneasily raised a hand to the back of his head. Yami raised an eyebrow questioningly, so he sighed, “Well, I’ve gotten into Domino’s Arts and Humanities faculty.” 

“That’s wonderful, Yugi!” Yami exclaimed. “Why do you think I’ll be angry, idiot?” 

“I am staying at the dorms… don’t worry I won’t crash at your place…” Yugi mumbled out quickly in reply. 

Yami blinked, “I have a very large extra room at my place, by the way.” 

“I know that. I would like to stay at the dorms. I am going to get a part-time job as well… I… I want to be independent from you and from mom and dad. I think it will be a good experience,” Yugi explained in a rush. Yami sat back in the stool, crossing one leg over the other and fiddling with the cover of the cup for a while as he waited for Yugi to take a sip out of his own cup, then add, “I wanted Domino because I have missed you a lot. It will be wonderful to be in the same city. We can get together during your days off or for the holidays, but still give each other space. Do you understand me?” He trailed off uncertainly. 

Yami nodded quickly, “Yes, yes… of course I understand. Look, you don’t have to explain anything to me or apologize for anything. I trust your judgment.” Yugi visibly relaxed in front of him. He reached over and held his brother’s hand comfortingly. He smiled widely, “I know you want a new experience. I think this will be wonderful for you. I am glad you picked Domino, so that if and when you need help, I will be just minutes away.” 

Yugi’s amethyst eyes brightened. He squeezed Yami’s hand back and turned his attention to his drink once again. 

There was silence for a few minutes. Then the younger man cast a sideways glance at him. 

“I just want you to rest assured that I won’t crash at your place…just in case you’re entertaining ‘friends’ or something…” 

Yami groaned and rolled his eyes. He shook his head and decided to ignore his brother.

*-*-*-*-*-* 

“There’s two of you…” 

Yami rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve duplicated!” 

Yami raised both eyebrows in an ‘are you serious?’ look as Seto placed a thumb and forefinger under his chin in a mock thoughtful expression as he stared down at Yugi who was standing beside him, a backpack slung on his shoulder while he dragged the rolling suitcase behind him. The brunet was just being silly, Yami knew that, because he had previously informed him that Yugi was coming with him. It was just two days ago when he found Seto calling him, asking for his flight’s particulars since he was volunteering out of the goodness of his pure heart to pick him up from the airport. He was just being juvenile now. Not that that was a new feat of his. 

His younger brother, however, provided quite an amusing response to the brunet’s –feigned?— interest in him. It was very…inattentive, as Yami was pleased and endlessly amused to see. It wasn’t deliberate, he knew, as Yugi was eyeing the vigorous rainfall from the airport’s windows with a wide-eyed expression of awe, while showing zero interest in the brunet. He wasn’t trying to spite him, Yami knew that because their hometown rarely got rainfall this heavy and Yugi was mesmerized by the sheets of water slamming heavily against the windows. It wasn’t intentional, the way he was ignoring his childish colleague. 

Said colleague smiled mischievously and, without an ounce of self-control or common courtesy, moved his fingers from his own chin to place them underneath Yugi’s in a quick move that Yami anticipated but was unable to prevent. Yugi jumped a little, turning his face up to meet Seto’s curious blue eyes. Yami was—apart from twitching in annoyance—amused to watch as his brother showed no other outward negative reaction to the unexpected touch. As if it was completely normal for someone to grab him by the chin and force him to look at them. 

He smiled instead, meeting Seto’s eyes and allowing the hand resting beneath his chin to linger. “Oh hello… you’re one of Yami’s friends…?” 

Yami barely held himself from giggling at Yugi’s subtle, almost delicate jab that he, Yami, didn’t even bother mentioning Seto to him. Seto frowned and narrowed his eyes a little, letting go of his brother and standing back, “I am your brother’s boyfriend…” 

Yugi laughed good-naturedly, quickly replying to that claim before Yami could even open his own mouth to reply, “Yami didn’t mention getting together with someone. And besides…who uses the expression ‘boyfriend’ at this age?” 

Seto glared at him. 

Yami suppressed an evil chuckle with difficulty and stepped between them grabbing Seto by the wrist and pulling him along, “Let’s go, kiddies. No need to fight just yet. Seto, please don’t go around invading people’s personal space; it’s very annoying as I have already explained several times. And Yugi, please be nice to my good friend here…” 

“You’ve just been friend-zoned, Dr. Kaiba,” Yugi calmly noted, pulling his luggage along and not making the slightest effort not to tease the brunet mercilessly. 

It was karma at its finest… 

However, being the mature adult that he was, he quickly started talking about the weather and how it was pouring outside. He kept up the inane chatter until he was sure they were not about to murder each other. They stood beside Seto’s car, loading their small suitcases into the trunk. Or Yami was _trying_ to put their suitcases into the trunk while Seto and Yugi both, once again, were doing the exact opposite of what Yami told them. Seto was leaning closer to Yugi once again, while his brother had his arms crossed and was looking up at the brunet with a smug grin on his usually innocent features. Both of them had matching expressions of subtle hostility on their faces. 

Yami rolled his eyes as he listened in on their conversation while trying to lift his heavy bag into the car. 

“Your eyes don’t look like Yami’s.”

“Yes, I took after my father’s eye color. We are not sure where Yami’s red eyes came from.” 

“They’re softer than Yami’s… less severe. He always looks ready to murder me.” 

“I can’t possibly think of any reason why…” 

“I know, right? He always abuses me so badly.” 

“And yet here you are saying that you’re his boyfriend.” 

“He’s not. _You_ can be my boyfriend.” 

Yami rolled his eyes once again and almost cringed at the repetitive motion. That and the bag was just _too heavy_. 

“What a suggestion… what makes you so special, though?” 

Yami laughed, throwing his head back with how amused he was at the ridiculous exchange. He gave up on trying to lift the luggage into the trunk and shook his head in complete amusement at the previously bickering pair who now stood staring at him, Yugi with a fond little smile and Seto with an intense look that he ignored for now. 

“Can you just help me put this into the car so we can go home?” he suggested. Yugi moved to help him while Seto stood with his arms crossed, a haughty expression on his features as he watched them, as if what was happening was beneath him. Yami secured their luggage into the spacious trunk then turned to him, smiling brightly. “Let’s go,” he suggested. His smile turned slightly more evil, as he looked at Yugi while opening the passenger’s seat’s door and pointing inside to Yugi, “Here, Yugi, get in next to your boyfriend. Don’t forget to hold hands…” 

Yugi grinned back at him, an equally mischievous look in his amethyst eyes. He quickly got in before Seto could even voice his protest. Yami chuckled and opened the backdoor, sitting comfortably back and preparing to enjoy the show. 

“Very funny, Yami…” Seto grunted. 

“Stop flirting with my brother. It’s very un-boyfriend-like,” Yugi happily teased. Seto surprisingly didn’t reply. “This is a lovely ride,” Yugi commented. 

Yami smiled. 

“You and Yami are very alike,” Seto said with a small grin, his cranky mood gone for the moment. 

“We’re siblings and all that…” Yugi nodded softly. “He’s a bit gay though…” 

Yami giggled. He had no idea how much he missed Yugi’s sarcasm until this very moment. It was refreshing to see him teasing his insufferable annoying colleague so much. 

“Good to know… I was starting to think he is rejecting me because he’s straight,” Seto grumbled. 

“Oh no… he swings both ways, don’t worry,” Yugi said. 

Yami scowled. “Yugi… do shut up,” he sing-songed. 

“In fact, I will have to break your delicate heart, Dr. Kaiba. I am straight as they come. Your only hope is Yami if you want one of us so badly.” 

“I’m already contemplating sending your sorry ass back to Egypt, Yugi, so shut up already,” Yami grumbled. The little shit didn’t know when to stop. 

Silence hung over the interior of the car for a few moments. 

“I am sorry about your grandfather,” Seto broke it. He stopped at a red light, pausing slightly, then added, his voice more serious than before, “I am sure he was a great man, from what I’ve heard of him.” 

“He was,” Yugi replied. 

Yami kept silent, placing his head in the corner of the door and the seat and closing his eyes. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. The week was terrible, full of fake smiles and tiring conversations with his parents, plus trying to deal with the change in time-zones. He knew the coming few days were going to be awful as well, because just two days ago, he had shaken off the jetlag from his first trip. Now he returned back to Japan and it was going to be a nightmare trying to get his body to get used to the time-zone again… 

That and Yugi seemed to stop being on his side where Seto was concerned. 

He opened his eyes again as Yugi addressed him. “He’s not so bad Yami. Why did you make him sound like an ogre?” 

“He’s jealous of my insanely good looks and innate charm,” Seto answered him helpfully. They shared a giggle together like little school kids. 

Yami almost groaned. _Great_ , he thought; now even Yugi was against him on this. 

They spent the way home taking turns making teasing remarks. He kept his responses limited to telling them to either shut up, or threatening Yugi or threatening Seto. It didn’t matter anyway, since their alliance seemed to strengthen with every response he made. Eventually, he kept silent, trying to shut out their chatter by closing his eyes and trying to think peaceful thoughts. 

Fortunately, the rain had thinned Domino’s traffic at this hour in the early evening. They reached his house in a thankfully shorter duration than the one it usually took him. Once they arrived, he quickly collected their luggage, pushing open his house’s door, letting Yugi inside and placing his own luggage in the entrance. 

He shut the front door, then turned to Seto who closed the trunk and stood on the tiny covered porch smiling down at him. 

Yami smiled back. 

“Thank you so much, Seto,” he said politely. “I apologize if Yugi upset you or something. He doesn’t mean it,” he added as an afterthought. 

“Oh I like him a lot,” Seto dismissed, waving a hand around. “He will make an excellent ally,” he added with a wicked glint in his blue eyes. 

“Don’t corrupt my brother, please,” Yami scowled. 

“I have zero interest in corrupting your brother, Yami,” Seto said with a smile. 

Yami blinked up at him and didn’t have time to react when the brunet leaned closer, trapping him against the closed front door. Yami’s heart somersaulted up to his throat and he swallowed with difficulty, finding it impossible to look away from the familiar blue eyes, whose pupils were blown wide in a way that Yami was all too familiar with. He was about to force himself to do something. Try and wiggle out of the small space he was backed into. Anything at all to leave himself at a less vulnerable position than this. 

However, Seto was already making his next move. 

He reached for Yami’s hand, wrapping his impossibly long, slender fingers around Yami’s and raising his hand. Before Yami could react, he had bent down, placing his lips on the top of his hand and laid a gentle, almost nonexistent kiss on it. 

The warm, smooth lips felt too warm on the skin of hand. Even warmer was the gentle breath that the brunet released after placing that tender touch on his skin. It felt like a furnace that suddenly opened up, swallowing his entire body in its heat, leaving him flushed and sending flutters down his stomach and making his toes curl in his shoes, almost breaking his self control and making him keen at the delicious sensation that, theoretically, shouldn’t feel this good. 

“I have missed you,” Seto told him, raising his eyes to meet his before he had time to compose himself, get the flush that spread from his ears to his face.

He couldn’t reply. The admission was made effortlessly. It should have been more difficult than the way the words easily rolled off Seto’s tongue. Yami didn’t know what to do. It was the first time he was ever placed in a situation like this. A niggling part of him—an annoying part, to be honest—raged at the action, the words, the _ease_. Another part of him –this one just as annoying, but less aggressive—whispered to him an explanation to what was happening. Deep down, he knew. He was being courted. As silly and old-fashioned as the expression was, Seto was doing just that and he was doing it artfully. And it was a foreign experience to him, one that he didn’t know how to deal with for a very simple reason. He had absolutely no previous experience to build on and deal with the situation based on it. 

Hence, it was why he stood dumbly, mouth agape ever-so-slightly as the brunet straightened, pushed a stray blond strand of his hair that came loose from his ponytail, back and away from his eyes. 

“Err…” he unintelligently started. His voice, to his mortification, came out hoarse and scratchy. He coughed, trying to clear his voice, stupidly pulling back his hand, placing it behind his back and reaching with his other hand to hold it protectively behind him. His flush deepened when he imagined how childish he must look. He forced himself to release his hold on himself and properly stand and he tried again, “Err… it’s good…it’s good to be back.” 

Seto smiled at him. His whole face softened and Yami couldn’t stop staring at him. 

“Get some rest. I’ll see you on Monday’s surgery list,” he said, turning around and heading for his car without a backward glance. 

Yami stayed glued to his place for a very long while later, until Yugi called him from inside. He turned and reentered the house. His moves were automatic as he dragged his suitcase to his bedroom, opening it and depositing his personal items on the nightstand, in the bathroom, into his closet. 

He paused. His eyes fell on the plain white cashmere scarf folded innocently and placed right in front of all of his other clothing items. 

Seto’s scarf. 

He had been about to push the closet shut when he changed his mind and his hand reached for the soft, white material. He had forgotten to give it to him that evening that seemed ages ago. He smiled just a little bit, holding the cloth with both hands, acutely aware of the way the back of his right hand burned with the physical memory of soft lips pressed against the skin there. He was also acutely aware of the fact that he was slowly raising the scarf closer to his face. His eyes slid shut and he relished the sensation of the soft cashmere against his skin as his smile widened and he inhaled the musky base note of Seto’s perfume that had rubbed off from the skin of his neck onto the fabric.

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it.

tbc...

*-*-*-*-*-*


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my dearies. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone kindly leaving comments and adding the fic to their favorites and reading. I have received positive comments from all of you and it makes me so glad you are enjoying the story so far. I hope I continue to please. Enjoy the chapter and thank you once again, everyone.

Returning back to work had been easier than he thought it would be. 

Jonouchi had placed his name onto surgery lists only for the first few days. He didn’t get any clinic hours and was kept clear away from twelve hour shifts. It was a blessing, in some way. He didn’t have to fully deal with patients just yet except to overlook a history taken previously or go over lab results or radiology findings. Plus, of course, working his scalpel on them. It was also a curse, in some other way. 

It meant that the time he spent around Seto was limited to the operating room. 

It wasn’t that he disliked noise in an OR. There was usually a false misconception about an operating theater. That it had to be absolutely silent and the only sounds made being that of monitors, the surgeon requesting tools and the suction at work. It wasn’t like that at all. An OR was one of the noisiest places to be. Every person focused in their own way; Yami remembered that one of his senior neurosurgeons liked listening to trance music while he worked. Another –an orthopedic surgeon—liked discussing dessert recipes while fixing bones with plates and screws. 

Yami was fine with a lot of those quirks. He could focus on several things at the same time without trouble. He adapted well to his surroundings. 

But right now, it was very difficult not to clutch the sharp scissors with his fist and try to gouge Seto’s blue eyes out with it, instead of the elegant grip he had on it between his thumb, index and middle fingers. It would be savage and look even less graceful. But Seto would deserve it; Yami would be doing everyone a favor. The brunet didn’t shut up ever since the surgery started. 

Two _hours_ ago. 

“Kaiba, do you _ever_ shut up?” he finally groaned, unable to keep up his previous strategy of ignoring the mindless, useless, inane chatter that grated unbearably on nerves he usually prided himself to be made of steel. Yet, they were tested so very thoroughly in ways Yami couldn’t imagine by this intolerable person in front of him. 

“Oh…he speaks, ladies and gentlemen,” Seto happily remarked, waving the electrocautery cable around in some silly victory dance. 

The assisting nurse—who had broken down an hour and a half before Yami did and was urging Seto to shut up ever since—scowled heavily and launched into a tirade of how childish he was being, that he shouldn’t treat the tools in such a manner and that now she will have to switch the cable because what he did didn’t conform to complete aseptic conditions that the surgery must be performed under. 

It was a refreshing break, in a dark, twisted way. It wasn’t that he loved a nagging nurse, goodness no. But really…Seto had been going on nonstop ever since they finished scrubbing up, it was a relief to get a break from his chatter. 

“You deserved that,” Yami calmly commented, holding out the artery stump so Seto could cauterize it with the newly-changed cable’s metallic tip. He waited until the loud beep of the machine died down, signaling that the artery had been completely closed, then removed the clamp, muttering, “alright, let’s close it.” 

“You wound me, Yami,” Seto commented in a mellow, sad little voice. Yami glanced up at him from across the table for a second, then turned his attention back to the surgical thread’s needle offered to him by the nurse so he could load it onto the forceps. “You make it sound like you can’t wait to get away from my pleasant company.” 

Before Yami could reply, Rafael grunted from the head of the table, “We all can’t wait to get away from your pleasant company, Kaiba.” Yami chuckled lightly. He could feel the glare Seto sent towards their usually-silent and patient anesthesiologist, who added as an afterthought in a slightly-pleading tone, “Please wrap up as quickly as you can, Dr. Motou. Save us all.” 

“Technically, this is Yami’s fault,” Seto cut in, a mock thoughtful expression on his face. Yami threw another glance up at him, this time laced with confusion as to how exactly he was the reason he didn’t shut up for the past two hours. “It is, Motou. Don’t deny it. If you’d answered me, then we’d have had a very good conversation.” 

“Sure, sure, it’s entirely my fault, of course you’re right,” Yami agreed in a bored tone of voice. 

That had been a mistake, as Seto obviously adored being told that he is right. He wouldn’t shut up about all the times he had been right ever since he was born. Yami found his hands working faster than ever, placing his stitches with franticness because frankly he just had to get out of hearing range of Seto’s voice. 

Obviously, everyone in the room had utter faith in his abilities to save them from being in the room, as quickly as possible. 

It made him smile softly to himself just a little bit. He had come back after the fiasco with Pegasus expecting condescending stares and awkward questions. Seto had been right. It seemed that it hadn’t been a strange occurrence, the way he froze during the surgery. Apparently it had happened before and that when he left the theater when that happened, it was the correct thing to do because he prevented further damage from taking place. 

It made him release a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

He was placing the last subcut suture –which he now used to close almost all incisions except the ones that required other kinds just to spite Seto—when the nurse sighed out in relief. 

“We’re done, Rafael, wake him up,” Yami said with a pleased smile, taking off his gloves and tearing the gown off him. 

“Thanks, Yami; you’re a saint,” Rafael cried in relief. 

He smiled up at him while placing the gown in the red basket. “I hope he doesn’t end up with any dog-ears with how quickly I was stitching him up…” he added as an afterthought, worried that the skin’s edges wouldn’t align and the end result would be a skin tag that was very unattractive. It was something that happened only once with him in his first surgery ever. It was the only thing he did wrong back then and the perfectionist in him hated it so much that he made sure never ever to make that mistake again. He hoped his haste to close up this patient didn’t result in something like that. 

Obviously, Rafael, who was injecting the anesthesia’s reverse into the patient’s IV line, noticed his thoughtful expression and apparent distress and he smiled, his sharp features softening dramatically and his blue eyes casting a kind look down at him. “Hey… you’ve done great, alright…? I haven’t seen any surgeon do your neat stitches before. With such speed too…” 

Yami laughed, raising a hand to run a finger beneath the edge of the cap covering his hair in a nervous habit. “Thanks… Honda is giving me a run for my money, though. He’s as good, if not better than I am and I have more years of experience than he has.” 

“He got this much better with you teaching him,” Rafael praised and Yami flushed under his gaze. “You make an excellent mentor, Yami.” 

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend,” Seto’s angry snap from behind them helped him bring his color under control. 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, about to make the now-customary retort that he really wasn’t Seto’s boyfriend when Rafael beat him to a reply. 

“Get out of the room, Kaiba,” the blond told him without even turning from the anesthesia monitor as he stood turning down the dials of inhalation drugs and adjusting oxygen levels. 

“It’s not _your_ room,” Seto childishly replied. Yami took a long suffering breath when the brunet, after he had removed his own protective gear and was about to leave the room with him, he turned around and stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow at the blond, broad-framed anesthesiologist. “I am staying right here.” 

Rafael turned and raised an eyebrow. “Really, Kaiba…I cannot stand listening to your voice for a second more. Please leave the room.” 

“I don’t feel like leaving. I want to stay here a while longer and have a chat,” Seto said with an annoying little smile plastered on his features.

“Seriously, Seto, stop being such a child and let’s go, I’m hungry!” Yami half-whined, tugging on the sleeve of Seto’s scrubs’ top. 

“No, let’s stay, Yami…maybe you and Rafael want to have a little chit-chat about different suture-techniques. Heaven knows why; you’re only an _anesthesiologist_ ,” Seto cruelly ranted in a monotonous, calm tone of voice, spitting the last word out as if it was an insult. “You know, recent laws requires anesthesiologists to scratch the surgeon’s itch during surgeries… I am quite sure you want this applied as soon as possible, don’t you, Rafael?” 

Yami stared incredulously at him, mouth open in shock. “Don’t be an asshole!” he admonished in a seething tone, already feeling his eyes flashing dangerously in anger. 

It made matters just worse when Rafael retorted with a smug expression on his face, an eyebrow raised towards Seto in a challenging look, “I am pretty sure you just regret _not_ becoming an anesthesiologist, Kaiba… me scratching an itch during a surgery is probably closer than you will ever get to him.” 

“Both of you, that is enough!” he snapped, his voice rising higher than it was considered acceptable. 

The room fell silent and the nurses stood watching silently from where they had been going on about their jobs while trying to look subtle when they were actually just watching the proceedings with avid interest that Yami was acutely aware of.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, both of you? This is so inappropriate and I don’t exactly appreciate being spoken of in such a manner,” he tried to keep his voice low but couldn’t do anything about how pissed off he looked and the murderous glare that he knew was directed at Seto and Rafael both. “Whatever alpha-male battle reeking of testosterone both of you think will happen over me better stop right now, or I really am filing for a sexual harassment complaint and I _will_ see it through, because frankly this has gotten out of hand.” 

Both of them looked thoroughly admonished and Yami, through his anger, felt it was a little unfair to snap at Rafael like this when he probably didn’t mean anything by what he said except trying to get back at the infuriating little shit with blue eyes who seemed to take immaturity to entirely unheard of levels. 

And that was why, as he slammed his hand down on the button that opened the room’s doors, he turned his glare towards Seto, adding in a low hiss, “And that complaint will be against _you_ , Kaiba. For being an insufferable ass who just doesn’t know when to stop!” 

He stormed out of the room, not waiting for a reply, because knowing Seto, he probably had the nerve to come up with one. He wasn’t interested in hearing it and he headed for the elevators. 

He could feel the redness of his features fading, but knew that the annoyed expression on his face and the flash in his eyes remained. He was very angry. Not only because of what just happened but also because of his reaction to it. A niggling part of was wondering why he got annoyed like that when it was Rafael, not Seto, who was making those comments about him. Why was it okay for Seto to annoy him for months now but when Rafael joined in, he flipped out the way he did? 

He didn’t know. And dwelling on it made him angrier and defeated any attempts to get his temper under control. He stood in front of the elevators, waiting for the doors to open. He glanced at his watch quickly, noting that it wasn’t even one in the afternoon which meant he had the rest of the day to himself to do what he pleased with it. 

The doors hadn’t opened yet when he heard quick footsteps behind him and Seto’s familiar voice calling him. “Wait, Yami…” 

He rolled his eyes and pointedly ignored him, pressing the call button several times, knowing that it was a dumb thing to do, but doing it to show the brunet that he was impatient to get out of his presence as soon as possible. 

For very good reason, too. 

“You do know that pressing it several times won’t call it faster don’t you?” Seto asked, amusement clear in his remorseless blue orbs. Yami glared up at him, then turned to stare at the closed doors once more. “Silent treatment?” 

“Go away, Kaiba.” He was trying very hard not to say anything more than that because with how annoying Seto was being, he didn’t trust his temper. 

“Alright, alright… look, I’m sorry.” 

Yami’s eyebrows shot up in amazement and he turned to stare up at Seto who looked a bit sheepish and very, very awkward; apparently, he wasn’t used to apologies. Something Yami could relate to and understand. But then again, he didn’t make a habit of being an irritating little brat the way his taller colleague did. It was a good thing, too, because Yami didn’t think he could look that gorgeous while being awkward as Seto looked at the moment. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he was adding in an embarrassed little mumble. 

One of Yami’s eyebrows descended a little, the other rising a bit more, his eyes narrowing with an ‘oh really’ look as he interrupted with a snap, “Yes you did, you ass!” he tried ignoring the endearing way Seto was almost just stuttering, as if he was trying to rush out words he had prepared in his head before he forgot them. This was the time to be angry. This wasn’t the time to dwell on how much he would very much like to ravish the lips from which those words tumbled out. 

Seto frowned, looking indignant. “I did not!” he insisted and Yami snorted, shaking his head and turning to look at the elevator doors once again, especially as the numbers started changing. “That wasn’t to make you uncomfortable,” Seto repeated and Yami was about to tell him to go away once again when the brunet added, cutting him off, “ _This_ , is to make you uncomfortable.” 

And before Yami could ask him what he meant, he had grabbed him by the upper arm, turning him towards him and pulling him closer while placing one hand at the back of his head to tilt it upward slightly then swooping down to place their lips together. Yami felt his eyebrows rising in surprise; he was too shocked by the suddenness of the action, he couldn’t draw back quickly enough or try to resist the lips that were as soft as he remembered them to be. And Seto’s hold on him, firm and assertive; the hold of a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to show it in the least…it felt too good to do anything other than stand there and succumb. 

That, and before he could do anything, the elevator doors opened at that exact moment, and Jonouchi’s amused whistle came from beside them. 

“Whoa! Get a room, both of you,” he exclaimed. 

Yami took the chance to snap himself out of his daze and pull away, too flustered, too embarrassed and his face too red to physically respond to the blatant violation from Seto like he would have done to anyone else. Or that was the excuse he used in his mind to justify not punching Seto in the face like he did once to someone who made a similar move a few years ago. Seto was a special case and his lips really, _really_ felt pleasant against his own, his subconscious admitted. The forefront of his mind, however, proudly ignored that and decided that he was simply too surprised to respond. 

“Don’t be rude, Katsuya!” Seto was replying. “I plan on courting this man properly. Which is why we shall have dinner tonight!” 

Jonouchi’s eyes widened. Yami was still trying to get his color back under control as the blond exclaimed happily, turning hazel eyes to him, “Oh my… Yami, did you finally agree to have dinner with him? Is he finally gonna shut up about how he wants to take you out on a date?” 

“Huh?” he dumbly responded. 

“Yes… we just finished today’s list and we agreed to have dinner,” Seto responded with a wide smile, exchanging excited looks with Jonouchi, then both of them turned simultaneously to stare down at him. 

Yami blinked. Silence hung like a heavy, thick blanket over them for few milliseconds in which his mind raced over the most appropriate way to respond to this. 

Seto was adamant, it was obvious. And either he really wanted to go out with him on a dinner date, which was why he kept blabbing about it to whoever was willing to listen, or Jonouchi was in on a joke and was just saying that to appease whatever twisted game Yami thought Seto was playing on him. Once again, he reminded himself that he didn’t exactly like conspiracy theories and did not think someone would go to such measures to woo him. He also knew Jonouchi is simply not that type of horrible person to take part in practical jokes or help someone be deliberately mean to someone else. 

And besides… 

“Erm… yes…” he numbly found himself saying. 

Besides… he actually _wanted_ to go out with Seto. 

He blinked once more, cleared his throat and pulled an expressionless mask on for now, staring up at Jonouchi and ignoring the very subtle shift in Seto’s body language –it was obvious he took him by surprise by agreeing—and addressed the blond, “Yes. We’re having dinner tonight. I would appreciate it if discretion is kept on your part, please.” 

Jonouchi nodded slightly, opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when Seto interrupted him. 

“Stop talking like a dictionary, Baby.” 

He rolled his eyes and stepped inside the elevator, already regretting his decision.

*-*-*-*-* 

Yugi noticed he was dressing up. 

The little shit was too observant for his own good. He was packing up the remainder of his things to move them into the dorms closer to the university campus when Yami came home. He had brought what he found to be a very interesting type of cheesecake; it was fluffy and wobbly; something that intrigued him beyond reason. He bought one and told Yami they were going to share it over a cup of coffee. Yami distractedly agreed. He should have known Yugi would suspect something. His younger brother now stood in the doorway, watching him like a hawk as he tried to pick out what to wear, especially as Seto’s recommendation was to dress comfortably as they weren’t going anywhere that required formal dress, when he asked. It was a bit of a surprise, too. He thought the brunet would try to take them to some ridiculously fancy place, being filthy rich and all that. 

“You’re going out with Seto on a date!” 

Of course, Yugi was going to work out the reason why he was having a hard time deciding between the safe all-black look he usually went for, or if he was going to put on a pair of jeans and a knit pullover with a shirt underneath. 

He ignored him for the moment and decided to focus on deciding what to wear. After all, maybe Seto’s ‘comfortable’ was Yami’s casuals? He didn’t want to ruin this by being underdressed or overdressed. 

“Do not wear black!” 

“Thank you,” Yami said, putting back his black outfit inside his closet and quickly before he changed his mind. It was for the best, since a shirt and a pullover passed for smart casuals and would be appropriate for any setting. He placed the clothes on the bed and pulled at the hair-band holding his hair in the neat ponytail he usually wore to work. 

“You’re welcome. When is Seto picking you up?” Yugi asked gleefully, seating himself on the chair beside the mirror. 

“At seven,” Yami replied, glancing quickly at the alarm beside the bed to see the numbers 06:15 glowing on it. He saw no point in trying to deny anything; Yugi was just too perceptive. “And _don’t_ start!” he warned with a grumpy mumble. Despite that last comment, Yugi was smiling so widely and brightly, Yami almost rolled his eyes. “What?!” he asked. 

Yugi giggled. He actually giggled. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just been a while.” 

“It has been a while for a reason, in case you don’t remember,” he replied. He stifled a sigh and tried not to twitch with the anxiety surging through him. 

“Oh I remember. I remember very well how long it’s been,” Yugi told him, a pointed look in his amethyst eyes. “I actually counted. It’s been exactly five years since your last serious relationship.” 

“More like my last serious disaster,” Yami grumbled at him, combing his hair with his fingers to remove the wave-like dent that his hair-band left in it. 

“Don’t do this!” Yugi’s angry snap made him pause. He looked at his brother from the mirror, a questioning expression on his features, especially as he saw the annoyed look in Yugi’s eyes. He was about to ask what ‘this’ was, when Yugi, now that he was sure he got his attention, explained, “Don’t start scaring yourself out of a relationship that hasn’t even started, Yami. You do that every single time and I will _not_ keep my mouth shut about it this time.” 

“I am not scaring myself, Yugi,” he calmly replied. He shook his head and turned to face his brother, adding, “There is no need to do that. I already am scared.” 

He put in a little laugh in there to make it sound like a joke. It was a poor joke and he knew it, even before Yugi’s eyes turned cold and he raised an eyebrow at him. 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“I know, I know…” Yami sighed, taking off the sweatshirt he was wearing and reaching for the shirt laid out on the bed. “I’m just nervous,” he while putting it on. “As you said, it’s been a while.” 

“Reminding yourself of that fiasco isn’t going to put your mind to ease, you know,” Yugi told him. Yami shrugged lamely, buttoning the shirt. “You can’t help it, I can see that. Just try not to keep telling yourself things like ‘last time’s disaster’ and ‘it’s been a while for a good reason’. Just focus on the fact that Seto doesn’t exactly look like the asshole Bakura was.” 

He couldn’t help the inward cringe at the mere mention of the name. He made sure to keep his features neutral as he did the last button on the shirt, hoping Yugi wouldn’t notice anything and refrained from making a remark that Bakura didn’t look like an asshole at the start, either. 

“You can’t spend your life alone because you think everyone’s going to be like him, Yami,” Yugi insisted, apparently knowing him too well. He ignored him, putting on the pair of jeans, zipping them up and buttoning them closed. Yugi was waiting for a reply which he wasn’t going to get and he seemed to realize that so he added, “You deserve to have someone who will treat you better.” Yami rolled his eyes at that, still silent but really not wanting to hear this lecture any more. Yugi seethed at him. “You can roll your pretty red eyes all you want at me, but it’s not going to change the fact that you know I am right. You’d give me the same advice.” 

“Let it go, Yugi,” Yami told him in a monotonous, bored voice, putting the pullover on over the shirt. 

“I will…if you promise to give this a proper chance,” Yugi insisted. 

Yami stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of the shirt and its hem so it poked out stylishly from underneath the v-necked pullover, while saying in calmness that betrayed nothing of the turmoil and myriad of unpleasant memories Yugi’s words stirred up within him, “I don’t do things half-assed, Yugi…” 

Silence hung over the room for a few moments, in which he stared at his strange hair, trying to decide what to do with it, then settled on leaving it to curl in messy, wispy waves around his head. He used his fingers to move some of the blond bangs mostly to one side of his head, parting his waves to the left side of his face and letting the blond blend in with the darker strands which faded into a deep red color. He remembered spiking his hair when he had been a teenager and Yugi imitating his style. He smiled fondly to himself at the memory. 

“Please don’t tell me you are remembering the time when we looked like starfishes.” 

He chuckled. “You know me too well.” 

“Yes, I do,” Yugi said, getting up from his place and drawing near him. Yami was reaching for the bottle of his perfume when his brother placed a hand on his, stopping him. He shifted his questioning eyes so they met Yugi’s, reading the determined concern in them. “Please. Promise me you will give this a chance. I know you don’t do things half-assed, but not where this is concerned.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Yugi shook his head, “Please just don’t argue; you know I am right. Don’t let him control you for the rest of your life, Yami.” 

“I’m not…” he feebly tried to object. 

“You are if you’re going to think everyone is going to turn out to be an asshole like him.” Yugi pointed out. 

Yami looked away and Yugi let his hand go and he reached for the bottle of perfume again, holding it to his neck, craning it away slightly while pressing on the dispenser and letting the mist settle on his skin and then repeating for the other side of it. 

“Promise me,” Yugi was adamant. 

Yami closed the bottle and placed it back on the vanity. He smiled and turned to his brother. “I promise, Yugi. I _want_ to go out on this date. I already am giving this a chance. Stop worrying so much.” 

Yugi’s eyes lit up with a smile and the hope blossoming on his features almost made him laugh. The younger man narrowed his eyes mockingly and argued, “I worry as much as I want, thank you very much.” 

Yami grinned, shaking his head and deciding not to ruin Yugi’s petty satisfaction at what was –to him—a victory at the end of this conversation and started putting on his shoes. 

Subconsciously, he knew it was because he really did not feel like worrying his younger brother more than he already was, by showing just how much he really was scared. What he meant to pass as a joke wasn’t in any way funny, as Yugi had pointed out to him. Needlessly, too. He knew it too well. He felt it, with the frankly nauseating, bottomless pit settling in his stomach from the anxiety of what he was attempting. 

It was too late to back out now, he knew. He just hoped he wasn’t making yet another bad decision and that Seto was worth the trust he was putting in him. He glanced at the clock once more, seeing that it was almost 7. It wasn’t possible to call Seto and come up with an excuse to get out of their plans. The brunet must be almost there to pick him up, probably. That and he wasn’t exactly the type to chicken out of a decision he made. He took a deep breath to calm himself. 

And at that moment, the doorbell rang. He strode out of his room, heading towards the front door to open it. 

Despite his previous nervousness and the somewhat gloomy conversation he just had with Yugi, he found a wide smile spreading on his features when he set his eyes on Seto’s tall form standing before him, clad in dark blue jeans, a white shirt and a dark brown leather jacket. There was a blue infinity scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding its gorgeous length from view and Yami was only just willing to forgive it that shocking crime because of how it accentuated the beautiful shade of Seto’s eyes. 

“Hey…” he breathed. “Good evening,” he added. 

Seto grinned. “Hello… you ready?” 

Yami nodded. “But come in for a moment, I need to grab something.” 

He stepped aside, letting Seto inside and closing the door once again. He led him inside into the living room and told him to make himself comfortable and that he won’t take long. He hurried back to his room, meeting Yugi who was on his way out of it. A niggling part of his brain wondered if it was a good idea to leave his brother alone with Seto at such a time and the answer provided made him hastily fold Seto’s scarf and look around the room, wondering if it was appropriate to give it back to him hand-to-hand like that. Deciding that that would be just rude, he rushed around his room, searching for a proper bag to place the scarf into. A few minutes later, he finally remembered the paper bags that he had placed in one of his closet’s drawers after a shopping outing, took out one and placed the scarf in it. He took a deep breath, calming himself down and once again stepped out of his bedroom and returning to the living room. 

Sure enough, he could hear Yugi and Seto talking in low tones and he couldn’t make out what his brother was saying, but heard the brunet telling him not to worry about something. He cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the pair. He looked suspiciously at both of them, waiting for a hint as to what they were talking about but both kept silent. 

“Seto wouldn’t try the cheesecake,” Yugi explained. 

Yami oh-ed. 

He turned to the brunet. 

“It’s Japanese cheesecake,” he explained. 

Yami and Yugi both stared questioningly up at him. 

“I’ve lived in Japan my entire life,” he explained again. 

They continued staring up at him, confused. 

“Aren’t we going out for dinner?” Seto asked Yami. 

“Yes, yes…” Yami agreed. 

A weird silence descended on them for a while… 

“Shall we?” Seto asked him, raising his eyebrows questioningly. 

Yami nodded, eager for the chance to chase away the weirdness. 

“Have fun, then, both of you,” Yugi said, ushering them to the front door. 

“We will, thank you,” Seto replied. Yami was busy shooting wary looks at them both meanwhile. 

He decided to let it go when the door closed and he still didn’t get a hint on what they had been talking about without risking a lot more awkwardness. They walked towards Seto’s car which was parked near the sidewalk in front of the little grassy area in front of Yami’s house. 

“You look very nice,” Yami said, deciding to be a courteous date and offering a compliment. 

He was glad to see Seto’s cheeks reddening very slightly. “Thank you. You look great as well,” he replied, politely just as they reached the car. 

Yami was glad when Seto headed to the driver’s seat, not trying to open the door for him or something annoying like that. He waited for the click indicating that the car was unlocked and got into the passenger’s seat, closing the door and buckling his seatbelt. He waited until Seto closed the door beside him as well and then handed him the bag. “Thank you,” he said politely. 

Seto opened the bag after giving him a questioning look. Realization dawned on him and he grinned, taking out the scarf and reaching over to him. Yami blinked as Seto wrapped the scarf around his neck after looping it, then pulling the ends through the ring it made, tightening it in a Parisian-knot tie.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he explained and Yami was hit with a not-entirely unwelcome sense of déjà-vu. He sat stunned into silence at the action –for the second time; it was a little pathetic to be honest. Meanwhile, Seto sat back in his seat, pulling on his seatbelt and starting up the engine. “Would you like to go somewhere in particular?” 

Yami blinked several times and forced himself out of his stupor. “Err…” he unintelligently started, his voice hoarse a little. He could feel his ears reddening slightly and he mentally reprimanded himself, clearing his throat and forcing himself to smile, “Not exactly, no. Really, Seto, with how much you’ve mentally gone out on a date with me, I’d think by now you would have it planned out!” 

Seto laughed. Yami tried hard not to dreamily stare at him, with how pleasant the sound and the sight of it was. “Alright, alright… just thought I’d ask.” 

“No, I’m fine with anything,” Yami reassured. 

Seto hummed in agreement, pulling out of the parking and starting to drive to his destination. Yami subtly took a deep breath, calming himself down and preparing himself for what was to come. It was a little wretched, how much he was dreading the next few hours and he wondered why he agreed to go out on this date to begin with. If things were awful, then things would be awkward after that. If it went well… 

He bit his lip and tried to calm his racing heart. 

Somehow, sadly enough, he was more anxious about enjoying his time than not doing so. 

“Let’s go have something to eat first, I know you’ve been hungry since we left work. And I am guessing since you’re always on a diet, you didn’t eat any of the cheesecake you and your brother are so awed with,” Seto was saying. 

Yami forced himself to stop working himself up into an anxiety attack and he laughed. His stomach had tied itself into knots in anticipation of the night but now since this…date was happening anyway, there was no point in staying hungry and he felt his unease fading with Seto’s attempt at humor. 

He smiled and focused on the conversation from then on. He had enough self-discipline to keep his mind off these thoughts. No point in backing out. Might as well try and enjoy his time, regardless of the outcome of that.

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*


	9. Chapter 9

An inane chatter dominated the interior of the car for the duration of the way to their destination, which turned out to be an American-style burger place. 

Yami’s eyes narrowed in a questioning gaze as they stepped out of the car. Seto just laughed once they fell into step beside each other, heading for the entrance and when he saw the skeptic look Yami didn’t bother to prevent from surfacing on his features, “Just trust me. They make the best burger patties in town.” 

Yami followed him inside, remarking, “To be honest, this wasn’t what I thought you’d have planned.” 

“You thought I’d take you to a stiff place with a waiter breathing down our necks with a bottle of champagne,” Seto knowingly stated. Yami laughed and Seto took that as confirmation. “Don’t worry. I know you wouldn’t like that.” 

“Oh Dr. Kaiba, and just how exactly do you know what I would like and what I wouldn’t like?” he raised an eyebrow taking his place opposite the brunet. 

“Call it a gut-feeling.” 

Yami smiled and stared around him, taking in the cozy dimly-lit interior. He felt the knot in his stomach loosening and his heart slowing to a more comfortable rate. He reached for the menu that the waiter who followed them to their table offered and started leafing through it. 

“Do you like the place?” Seto asked him. 

“Yes, I do,” he nodded, glancing over the menu at him for a moment, then looking back at the items on it. Mentally, he tried to calculate how many thousand calories each of them contained. “But seriously, Kaiba… my metabolism will never burn off the calories in the smallest meal on this menu!” he grumbled. 

“Just enjoy your food without thinking of its calories, Yami,” Seto shook his head. “I promise if you gain a few kilos, you’d still look gorgeous.” He flushed and hid behind the tall menu. “Are you blushing behind that thing?” 

“No!” 

“Alright…” 

He ignored the laughter in the brunet’s voice and decided to take his advice and ordered without worrying about the nutritional value of his meal. He smiled as Seto started discussing music, using the restaurant’s playlist as a starting point. Yami allowed himself to share the fact that he could play the piano but stopped as he got busier with his post-graduate studies and openly blushed as Seto gaped at him in awe and admiration. Slowly, the conversation turned to a discussion of books and poetry and Yami was delighted to know that, like him, Seto was a fan of George Orwell and that he had the entire collection of his works in his home library. Their food gradually disappeared as the chatter took them to discuss their siblings. 

Yami was nibbling on a French fry when he finally found out what Yugi was telling Seto.

“Your brother is very overprotective,” the brunet was remarking, sipping his milkshake. He had easily gone through a gigantic burger, his cheesy fries and was now finishing the jug-like glass of strawberry-banana milkshake that he ordered next to his meal. 

Yami was struggling to get through half his sandwich. “Why do you say that?” he asked, pushing the rest of his mostly-uneaten fries around the plate. 

“He felt the need to give me the shovel talk today when you were getting the scarf,” Seto said with a little grin. Yami almost groaned. “Told me he was going to make me regret it if I upset you in any way.” Yami shook his head, not knowing what exactly to say to that. “I would love to know what makes him so overprotective.” 

Yami shrugged. “He’s just…” he started, trailing off for a moment. Seto patiently waited. “He’s just been witness to some really bad decisions on my part.” He laughed nervously. 

Seto hummed, a thoughtful look on his features, the straw of his milkshake resting just inside his mouth. Yami tried not to stare. “Bad _relationship_ decisions?” he asked. 

Yami blinked and shrugged once more. “Yes… among other things, of course.” 

An awkward silence was spreading and Yami found himself getting desperate, mind racing over ways to prevent the good mood from dissipating. 

“Mokuba is like that,” Seto broke the silence to comment. Yami raised his head to look at him so he shrugged, sheepishly adding, “I think all of us took bad relationship decisions at one point or another.” 

Silence hung over them for a few moments, in which Seto finished his milkshake and Yami realized that he was never going to finish his food. He excused himself to wash his hands, disappearing for a few minutes into the bathroom to calm himself. He couldn’t believe Seto wasn’t going to press for more information on the matter. It seemed surreal; the brunet was just too good, too perfect to be real and inevitably, he found his heart racing once more in anxiety, thinking of all the ways Seto just seemed to be considerate. Like today morning, where he kept up that annoying chatter so people wouldn’t press him with questions regarding the fiasco with Pegasus. He didn’t have to do that at all. So why did he? 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reprimanding himself and reminding himself of Yugi’s words that he shouldn’t work himself up needlessly. Because really, he knew Seto wasn’t an insensitive little asshole who kept bringing up uncomfortable topics. He knew that very well. Why was he trying to ruin a perfectly great night for himself? 

Successfully managing to bring his worry under control, he returned to the table. The rest of his meal had been packed neatly in a brown paper bag for him to take home. He sat down in his place opposite Seto who was checking something on his cell phone. 

“Look at this,” the brunet told him, holding out the phone to him. 

Yami looked at the screen. It was an event in Domino. A piano and violin recital and it was taking place just half an hour from now in one of Domino’s culture clubs. His eyes lit up in excitement and he took the phone, exclaiming, “Oh wow! I had no idea these events took place anywhere nearby. I went to a concert like this almost eight years ago and it was so much fun! Are the tickets still available? Can we go?” 

He looked up suddenly, just in time to catch a very soft, very affectionate look in cerulean eyes that were watching him closely. He had moved too quickly, before Seto could mask the unguarded, openly warm stare that Yami wasn’t naïve to mistake for anything other than what it was. Whatever doubts he had, whatever worries gnawing at him settled down a little at the look that Seto was obviously having a very hard time hiding from him. Someone with ill-intentions could never fake such a look. And with the doubts that settled, came a different king of anxiety. 

He swallowed, not even trying to hide the flush spreading up his neck. 

“I was showing it to you to ask if you wanted to go,” Seto explained, a soft smile tugging on his lips and Yami felt his own features lighting up with a happy little smile. “Let’s go, we’ll make it just in time if we move now.” 

No one ever looked at him that way before. 

He knew that very well. The thought had repeated itself in a maddening, unrelenting mantra in his head all the way to the event’s venue and as they were seated in very, very good seats that were impossible to get with how late they booked their tickets, but Seto’s celebrity-status in Domino ensured. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the two-hour long concert; far from that. As he told Seto, it wasn’t the first time attending such an event, with two of his favorite instruments blending beautiful notes to create chilling sounds that his heartbeat attuned itself to. However, this recital was on an entirely different level of professionalism. More than once, he found his breath taken by the music. 

He was acutely aware of Seto’s gaze on him more than once throughout the evening. The stare of the blue eyes was almost physical, he could feel it raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck and the side of his face with its intensity. There was growing heat in it that the brunet had more than once blatantly revealed to him. But this…this was different. The softness from earlier intermingled the heated look, giving it an intensity that Yami felt his hands trembling just thinking of it, and he had to clench them into fists to avoid appearing anything but composed. 

No matter how hard he tried to focus on the music only, his mind kept racing with thoughts. The attentiveness and care in the gesture, of actually searching for an event like this nearby, finding one and suggesting attending made Yami’s heart skip a beat and his stomach twist and turn in a not-entirely unpleasant way. 

He was familiar with the sensations. The racing of his heart and the weird fluttering in his gut; coupled with the undeniable way he was physically attracted to the brunet. There was no way to lie to himself about what was happening. Surely, he was falling for his colleague and there was absolutely nothing he could do to deny it or prevent it. It didn’t help at all that he had agreed to go out on this date. 

Panic was rising in him at what was happening. 

It must have been very obvious, because after the duet recital was over, Seto suggested they took a walk in the park nearby and he hummed distractedly in a way the brunet didn’t fail to notice when he told him that there was a fair being held there and that they should check it out. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, broken by the occasional chirp of a night-bird or insect, the rustle of the cool wind in the leaves that clung stubbornly to tree branches that were otherwise bare in an almost clichéd façade of autumns that Yami previously only saw in pictures. He was now grateful for the soft white piece of fabric wrapped around his neck. He buried his mouth and nose behind it, hiding the silent, deep breath he used to take in the lovely scent that clung to it, and the way the corners of his mouth curled ever-so-slightly at the myriad of pleasant stimuli hitting most of his senses. 

“Are you alright?” 

His head snapped up and sideways, alarmed by the sudden question and a little embarrassed to be seen sniffling at the scarf in that creepy way. He stuttered slightly, “Err…yes, yes, I’m fine.” 

“Didn’t you enjoy the concert?” Seto asked, a tiny frown crinkling the area between his eyebrows. 

“No, I actually loved it,” he replied, a huge smile spreading on his face at the very welcome opportunity to speak of anything else other than the discussion he knew was going to happen. He didn’t know if Seto was genuinely wondering if he liked the concert or if he was offering him a chance to get his mind off whatever thoughts rampaging around in his mind. He grabbed the chance with open arms. “It is on an entirely different level of professionalism than what I saw before.” 

“Oh?” Seto exclaimed as they strolled on the side of the walkway leisurely. 

Yami nodded, “They both look like they’ve been at this for a very long while, possibly since early childhood. In many cases, musicians don’t reach that level of skill unless they’ve started doing it since a very young age.” 

“Did _you_?” 

Yami laughed. 

 “No,” he said, shaking his head and letting his eyes roam. 

He took in the scene before him, taking in the stalls making up the fair being held, stretching in front of him in two rows, with an occasional kiosk standing in the middle of the area. The area was lit with lamps inside lanterns to give the place a gorgeous, ancient feel that stirred a strange, almost melancholic sensation deep within him. The previously muted sounds were now louder but not annoyingly so; just a cozy mixture of laughter, surprised exclamations and friendly bartering between stall owners and attendees of the event. His nostrils were slowly getting assaulted with the rich, pleasant smells of the food stalls selling street foods and he made a mental note to grab something for Yugi before he went home. It was warmer here, too, the lights, the crowd and the heat from grills taking the edge of the biting cold that dominated the rest of the park. 

His smile widened and he blinked, once again turning to look at Seto as he added, “No, no, I am not even quarter as good as the pianist. I can’t compose or anything. I took lessons after moving away from my parents trying to make myself feel better. It became a habit to go to classes and I made friends with the people at the center where they took place.” 

“I thought you started young,” Seto muttered in low tones. 

“No, my parents didn’t believe in such things,” he dismissed. They stood under the umbrella of a stall selling dream-catchers, wind-bells and Ofuda talismans. He pushed at the wooden wind­-bells and the iron ones, listening to the sounds they made and adding with a little laugh, “It’s a joke between me and Yugi actually. Our parents were so focused on our academics, they didn’t bother with our interest in sports or arts, that we ended up being failures in all three aspects.” 

He was so focused on selecting a talisman and comparing wind-bells’ prices and how to hang them up at home that he totally missed the incredulous look on Seto’s face. It was only after he made his purchase and turned to proudly show off the Ofuda, Omamori and the wind-bell –which he shook to emphasize how happy the sound it made left him—that he noticed how the brunet was staring at him. 

“What?” he asked, face falling a little at the disappointment shining in the blue eyes. 

“Don’t do that!” Seto admonished. 

Yami blinked, “Do what?” he asked as he fell into step next to Seto, who was moving onto the next stall. 

“Don’t demean yourself like that.” Yami laughed and was about to say he wasn’t doing that when Seto stopped, vehemently snapping, “No! Don’t…” Yami stopped as well. “I don’t exactly understand what it is you are doing, but stop belittling yourself like that. Do not call yourself a failure. Not even as a _joke_.” He hastily added the last part when Yami opened his mouth to say that it was just a joke. 

“Chill, Kaiba,” Yami placated, holding his free hand out in a calming motion. 

“You piss me off sometimes,” Seto grumbled, heading straight for the stall making a food item that Yami didn’t recognize. 

“Well, consider it payback for pissing me off _all_ the time,” he laughed. He then frowned in confusion as Seto stood ordering. “Are you seriously about to eat again?” he asked incredulously, mouth open in shock. 

“This is takoyaki. One does not simply _not_ have some,” Seto admonished. 

Interest piqued more than his amazement at Seto’s never-ending appetite, he peered at the stall’s contents, looking at the batter getting poured into a pan with multiple half-circles punched into it. “What’s that?” he asked in interest, watching the man adding seafood bits and pickled ginger and spring onions into the still runny batter. 

“It’s takoyaki,” Seto helpfully supplied, his eyes shining brightly. 

“Yes, we’ve got that established already,” Yami impatiently said. Then he laughed at him, “Seriously, Seto, where does all the food you eat go? Is there some… _super stack_ of vitamins you take to have superman’s metabolism?” 

“Just an occasional course of vitamins every few months,” Seto shook his head. “You really should try swimming,” he told him as they stood waiting for the order be ready. 

“And get briefs instead of trunks, yeah, yeah, I get it,” Yami remarked in a mock bored tone. Seto laughed and gave him a thumbs up. 

They stood in amiable silence for a few moments, Yami watching the man dexterously using chopsticks to turn the hardening batter around every few moments, shaping the final dumpling into a perfect sphere. 

“So you’ve never taken part in any sports?” the question came suddenly. 

“It’s not like that,” Yami sighed, feeling the delighted look that dominated his features at the skill displayed before him disappear gradually. “We had PE class, I rode bikes, played football. Just never seriously and by the time I was grown up enough to realize for myself that it is important to be active in _some_ way, it was already too late to incorporate it as a habit. I tried, of course, but the times I spent focusing on trying to take up a sport seriously were few and far between.” 

He was appalled at the amount of mayo the man was drizzling on the six spheres placed in the small rectangular plate where Seto’s snack was placed. 

“So you never tried swimming? Never put on a swimsuit?” Seto insisted, handing him a pair of chopsticks as they sat on a bench on the side of the stall. There was an evil little glint in his blue eyes and Yami rolled his eyes. 

“Did you really sleep with half of Domino’s population?” he countered, deciding to start asking questions as well. 

Seto choked on the first bite he had taken. Yami raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, as he coughed a little. 

“Seriously, Motou, not you too!” Seto groaned, his cough ceasing but his face was still a bit red. 

Yami wasn’t sure if it was from choking or if he was embarrassed or angry. 

He shrugged, snapping the pair of chopsticks away from each other. “It’s the first thing I was told about you, after your name and that you’ll be my thesis partner.” 

Seto held out the plate to him. 

“How do I do this?” he asked blankly, trying to pick a piece that wasn’t drenched in mayo. 

“Just pick it up with your chopsticks and have a bite…” Seto explained. “You do know how to use chopsticks, right? Should I get you a f…” Yami rolled his eyes and expertly picked up the plump sphere between the two sticks. “Oh okay…”

Yami took a tentative bite. He chewed carefully, then realized he was being silly, because there was nothing to fear about batter and seafood. He smiled appreciatively and swallowed. “This is delicious!” 

“It’s takoyaki,” Seto said with a fervent tone. 

Yami giggled a little at it and continued eating while watching as the brunet dug into the snack happily. They ate quietly for a while, Yami finishing his piece and declining the offer for another one. 

“So… _did_ you?” he insisted. 

Seto looked exasperated, “I did not.” 

Yami narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“I just _flirted_ with half of Domino. Didn’t sleep with them,” Seto smirked in retaliation to that. 

“So where did the rumor come from?” Yami asked, thoughtfully staring off at the nearby trees. 

Seto shrugged. “If you find out, tell me,” he said. “I’ve had exactly three serious relationships since I graduated from med-school.”   

The suspicious look was back and Seto looked indignant. “No side detours here or there during or in between?” 

Seto scoffed, “I don’t cheat, if that is what you mean! And I don’t lie around, either.” He looked away at the vendors, apparently cooling down his temper doing so. Yami let him, staying silent until he decided to speak again, “I really have no idea where the rumor came from. I suppose people are using the stereotype of playboy millionaire and making me wear it even if I have no idea where exactly they’re getting their information from. I slept with three people…the only three relationships I had so far.” 

Yami straightened ever-so-slightly, his interest stirring with those words. He didn’t know how much more information Seto was going to give and he did not want to seem indifferent in any way. Nor did he want to give the brunet any hint that, even though he knew for sure that there were exaggerations to how much he ‘slept around’, the very low number took him completely by surprise. 

“Kisara was a sweetheart. One of my younger classmates who became a dermatologist later on. She was beautiful and brilliant, with blue hair that I had no idea how she kept that color. Things were perfect with her until they just…weren’t, anymore. Whatever was there just…sort of died,” the brunet started. He smiled while chewing on his beloved takoyaki and Yami took the chance to observe every little detail he could put his eyes on. “A year after Kisara I met Shizuka, Jonouchi’s sister.” 

Yami eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

Seto laughed and nodded, taking a bite, chewing and then pointing at Yami with the half-eaten dumpling, “Yeah, you heard that right.” Yami stared incredulously at him, waiting patiently until he swallowed and elaborated, “It didn’t work out in the end. She expected me to be exactly like her brother. We were colleagues, worked together…friends. She hero-worshipped him and expected to find a copy of him in me.” 

“And what made _you_ lose interest?” Yami asked him. 

Seto smiled sheepishly, “Don’t get me wrong, but she was very, very beautiful. It wasn’t interest in her, it was lust disguised as interest.” Yami rolled his eyes. “Really, I won’t even try to deny it. We met in the hospital. Mai wasn’t discharged yet after her accident.” Yami could feel the niggle of curiosity eating at him once more. There was a cloud of something dark and sorrowful in the blue eyes which disappeared just as quickly, while Seto resumed, “she was sitting there, the sun in her hair. She wasn’t blonde like Jonouchi. She had long red hair, freckles and grey eyes. She was very beautiful and I was not exactly thinking things through when I asked her out. We dated for a year, then decided to part ways while we were still friends when we realized we couldn’t give each other what we needed.” 

Yami listened in silence, wondering why Seto would be telling him all this if he was just playing around. A part of him –which spoke in Yugi’s voice, for some bizarre reason—snapped that by now he really should let go of his paranoia. Surely, no one went to such measures to lure someone to their bed did they? He repeated that thought every time, yet he still wasn’t convinced, he didn’t know why. And from what Seto was saying, he was used to dating girls with poster-girl beauty standards. He didn’t need to spend so much effort wooing him. A different part of his mind, this time in a dark voice that didn’t remind him of Yugi at all, whispered in wonder that if Seto was so used to dating and bedding such beautiful women, why would he bother with him? Plain and uninteresting and looking years older than his actual age and with mental issues enough to send anyone running the other way around? 

“Jonouchi wasn’t as difficult to handle as I thought he would be. He was quite mature about the whole thing; I think he knew long before we did that we wouldn’t find what we were looking for in the other,” Seto explained, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. He smiled but Yami could see a cloud of glumness in his blue eyes. “He was actually a lot of help with the fiasco that came after with Zigfried von Schroeder.” Yami raised an eyebrow questioningly. “He was an old acquaintance from my days in KaibaCorp, owned a similar company in Germany,” Seto explained, pushing the last dumpling around absentmindedly. 

Yami smartly guessed that this was not as easy to talk about as the others. He felt his heart racing, aching for whatever sorrow was caused to the brunet who, despite his best efforts, managed to worm his way with ease into his heart. 

“He had pink-tinged blonde hair and was a few inches taller than me. He always smelled of roses. Always looked like he stepped out of a medieval novel, wearing a classy suit, carrying a flower, never a hair out of place and never an unnecessary move,” Seto said, fondness lacing his words. Yami was too mature to let the pang of blind jealousy appear in his eyes as he listened as the brunet carried on after letting out a sigh and shaking his head, “He was perfect. He did everything right. Said everything right, understood the insane work hours of a mid-senior surgery resident and brought food, said he supported everything I did… Jonouchi told me he didn’t like him, at first and I just laughed at him. I really thought I had hit gold. That he was _the one_ , but Jou was right eventually.” 

“What happened?” Yami asked tentatively, once again the cold making him bury his nose in the scarf, but his eyes were fixed on Seto. 

“I am not sure, to be honest. I can’t exactly pinpoint what went wrong, or if it had all been an act, then whatever mask he was wearing slipped off gradually. Whatever support was there for my work became little frowns at surgery lists that went on longer than expected. Phone calls from my thesis supervisors caused temper tantrums and arguments. Not just that, I was expected to make conversation all the time, yet I wasn’t to speak of work. He was a right _ass_.” 

The corners of Yami’s mouth twitched a little at the way Seto sounded just like him saying that expression. 

“I didn’t know why I put up with him, but I guess some part of me thought I loved him.” 

It was difficult not to let his jealousy show. He looked away to stare at random parts of the fair and observe people moving around. His gaze settled on one of the lanterns, the kanji letters written on the colored glass soothing him. 

“It was a very bad time.” Seto was saying. Yami slapped himself mentally for being a selfish little shit who was having jealous rants in his mind while Seto was sitting there, sharing these painful memories with him. “It’s everything that’s wrong with being in a toxic relationship. You don’t realize how much of yourself you’ve lost until you’ve changed so much that you no longer recognize yourself and others no longer recognize you.” 

The melancholy and the truth in the words touched a chord inside him. He could relate. Oh yes, he could relate to every word Seto was saying and unconsciously, before he could stop himself, his hand reached out, placing itself on Seto’s. He didn’t know if he was trying to offer comfort or if he was seeking to comfort himself from the onslaught of memories the words brought upon him. 

A smile spread across the brunet’s features as he looked at Yami’s smaller, lightly-tanned hand. It was covered in tiny marks and scars from adventures in the kitchen and looking generally rough from the use. A clear sign he did things for himself for a long time. It was a stark contrast against Seto’s which had slender fingers like Yami’s, a characteristic feature for most surgeons and was many, many shades lighter in tone. Seto’s hand in contrast was completely unmarred by any mark. He was raised an aristocrat, used to easy living since childhood. 

Seto turned his hand around, his fingers wrapping around Yami’s and loosely, they held hands as they sat on the bench. 

“Needless to say, the breakup had been bloody.” 

Yami flinched slightly at the words, head turning to look at Seto. 

“Figuratively,” Seto corrected, a curious look flickering over his features. Yami relaxed visibly, hiding how unsettled the expression made him and let out an internal sigh of relief when Seto took the bait and continued, “But it had to be done. He wasn’t very amused that I was the one leaving him. Made a scene at the hospital and started calling me names. It was a bit pathetic and I didn’t think it was worth it to reply. Jonouchi was pissed off way more quickly than I was, however. It was the first time since med-school that I saw Jonouchi take a swing at someone like he did. Gave him a bruise to match his pink hair.” 

Yami giggled at that. 

“Who would date someone with pink hair?” he remarked, shaking his head, nervously laughing between words. Seto joined him. the sounds of their giggles hung around for a while, lightening the atmosphere. Yami then he remembered the conversation he had with Yugi just a few hours ago about weird hairstyles. “I used to have weird hair…” he admitted. 

“You still have weird hair, Yami,” Seto remarked, deciding to eat the last takoyaki left in the plate. “I am thinking of taking a DNA sample from you to find out how come you have three shades of three different colors. You must have been a Calico cat in some other life.” 

Yami shoved at him playfully and the brunet laughed again, obviously very pleased with himself. Yami shook his head and looked ahead once more at different corners of the fair, noticing the subtle way with which his date straightened and inched closer so that the heat from his body was flush with Yami’s entire side. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. 

“Is that why you’ve shunned me at every chance?” 

Yami didn’t reply. 

“You thought I slept with half of Domino?” 

Yami could feel the blue eyes settling on him. He buried his nose once more into the scarf, taking a few seconds before answering, thinking carefully of what to say. 

“At first, yes,” he admitted. He sighed and raised his head, turning to face Seto while adding, “To be honest, a part of me regrets coming out tonight.” A frown crinkled the space between Seto’s eyebrows and Yami had to look away. “I don’t mean any offense. I just don’t understand what it is you want with me.” 

“I thought I made it very clear,” Seto said, confused. 

Yami rolled his eyes and laughed, “No, really… don’t make me laugh.” 

“You just did anyway,” Seto observed. Yami stayed silent, staring ahead of him. “You think I want to sleep with you then move on.” 

“I thought this was it, at first,” Yami agreed with a hum. “Which is why I am now confused as to what exactly do you want with me. No one goes to such measures to get someone into their bed.” 

“Perhaps I want more with you than just getting you in my bed,” Seto flatly suggested. 

Yami laughed once again and shook his head in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to bury yourself in self-loathing misery and chicken out of new experiences.” 

Offended, Yami’s eyes flashed as he shifted them to his companion who had an eyebrow raised challengingly. His temper was quick to rise and Seto knew just which buttons to push, “I’m hardly chickening out. I am highly logical and tend to read between lines. From what you just told me about past lovers and the frankly ridiculous way you look like something out of a fashion magazine, I understand that I am lacking in looks, fame and intrigue for someone like you. I have been a victim of rushing without logical thought into situations that ended very badly for me and it resulted in a lot of damage that I am not very willing to expose myself to any more. Forgive me if I am trying to…” 

He had plenty more to say. 

He didn’t get the chance to say it, however, because Seto moved suddenly, resting his hands on the sides of his face and kissing him. 

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was why it effectively shut him up and silenced the tirade he had launched himself into and quieted the insecurities tearing him up inside. There was more to it than the physicality, even if that in and of itself a very effective reassurance. The need to get closer to this person beside him made itself known now that it took place. The way Seto’s fingers stroked his face calmingly, the way he was gently pressing his lips to Yami’s… it held more even if it was enough by itself. It held a promise, a comforting message and it was as if Seto was trying to lay his anxiety to rest. 

He was very successful. 

Yami drew away slowly. He closed his eyes, bowed his head slightly and breathed out, trying to relieve the ache that lingered in his chest. 

Slowly, one of Seto’s hands left the side of his face, letting it drift up to his hair. The long slender fingers he was just admiring a few minutes ago buried themselves in his wispy locks, gently rubbing his scalp in a touch that raised the hairs on his body on end and before he could deal with the electrifyingly tender, intimate touch, he felt the lips that were just against his own pressing themselves against his forehead. 

His eyes fluttered open, a disbelieving expression in them. It was a bit sad to realize that, at his mid-thirties, it was the gentlest touch he ever received in his whole life. It was magical and he felt silly all of a sudden. Silly, inexperienced, stupid. What did logic mean when this simple gesture, a kiss in the middle of an angry retort, a hand in his hair and a pair of lips on his forehead made him realize how starved for affection he was? 

Even before Seto spoke, he realized the flaws in his own words. 

“I do not care what is logical,” Seto stated, allowing him to draw back. His voice was quiet, eyes open and he could clearly see the plea in them. “I don’t care what past experiences taught you; I don’t care about anything you just said, except to show you that you are wrong for thinking you are lesser than me, or anyone I knew. I care only about making you understand that nothing disqualifies you from trying.” 

Yami hung his head down, staring at his feet for a few moments. “What makes you think you won’t just lose interest like you did before? How do you know this isn’t lust? And more importantly, how do you know I won’t be as toxic as your German friend, if not more? I drag a lot of luggage around, Seto…” it was only fair to issue a warning. 

The brunet sat back as well. Silence stretched between them for a very long while, that Yami thought that he finally made a point and that no answer was appropriate for his question. 

The crowd in the fair had started thinning out. The weather gradually got colder around them. It was more difficult to find something to focus his attention on; more difficult to try and avoid burying his freezing nose into the warmth and smell of the scarf… 

“I am taking a leap of faith.” 

Yami turned to him to find him looking ahead at the stall owners, now relaxing a little and heading over for a chat with neighbors. 

“I am not exactly happy with the way things turned out with Zigfried. Or Kisara or Shizuka, for that matter. But I know that you…” he paused. Yami listened and watched him blink once, then turn to face him, adding, “You make me want to try again. I don’t care about anything else, just the fact that you make me want to take that risk.”

Yami pursed his lips slightly and stared at him for a few long moments. Deep down, the question he asked himself ever since he let himself get dragged towards Seto’s flame, the question that niggled within him…what was he doing? Why was he being so reckless once again? A burst of enlightenment appeared in his mind at Seto’s words. 

Seto made him want to try once again. Forget the disaster he went through before. Place good memories instead of the horrible ones he associated with being anything other than lonely and cold and missing affection. 

He took a deep breath, turned away and sighed it out. 

“That makes two of us,” he admitted softly. So softly, that he wasn’t sure Seto even heard him, but apparently, he did because he felt the familiar soft hand wrapping around his once more, holding on and giving it a gentle little squeeze. 

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone... Thank you all for reading and all your lovely comments. I have a note to make that there is some violence later on in the chapter, as well M/F noncon/rape being hinted at. If you are triggered, then try not to read this chapter. Love you all *sends hugs*

He was wrong when he thought yielding and going out on the date would help tone down the way Seto openly harassed him at work. 

If anything, it seemed he became more vehement in his attempts at flirting, as if making it a point to prove that their date did not mean he would stop trying. Yami was torn between feeling affectionate at the subtle reassurance that no one will know any details of their ‘date’ –which, not surprisingly, the entire hospital found out that it took place—and feeling the frustration that he has to continue admonishing the brunet for his less-than-proper comments. 

It was such a time at work where Seto was trying his hardest to make his life more difficult. It was one week after that date. They were on a night shift, now that Yami once more took back his normal work hours and schedule. He had taken the chance that it had been a calm first few hours in the shift and as the clock hit past midnight, it meant that the rate of accidents and the people hitting the emergency room dwindled down, and headed towards the operating rooms. Easily, he located Rafael in one of the rooms standing at the anesthesia machine at the head of the patient undergoing a total-hip-replacement. He sat waiting for the surgery to finish, trying not to get uncomfortable at the students whispering and pointing at him with awe. Apparently, karma was getting back at him for all the times he did the same to older surgeons when he had been a student and used to gape in awe at them. He was glad when the surgery was over and he could meet the blond anesthesiologist outside PACU after he made sure the patient was stable, grateful for his privileges that these younger students did not have, which was access to the recovery area. 

He apologized to the blond anesthesiologist for their last encounter. He had meant to do it over the past week, but Rafael had been located in ICU so Yami did not get to see him much. He told him that he hadn’t really been angry at him, Rafael, but the situation in and of itself annoyed him and that he should have had better self control than to snap at him like he did. 

Rafael was holding up a hand and rubbing the back of his blond head and looking sheepish and saying that he and Seto stepped out of line, really, when Seto’s voice came from behind Yami, arrogant and hovering just slightly on the border of rudeness, “Can’t wrong myself in any way; he _is_ my boyfriend and you _were_ flirting with him. You ass!” 

Yami took a long-suffering breath and he turned, sighing it out and tiredly replying, “Seriously, Seto, don’t start!” 

Rafael was replying in a cold tone, “You never wrong yourself, Kaiba. Nothing new there.” 

Seto stepped beside Yami and stared directly into Rafael’s baby blue eyes, mirroring the cold expression in them in his darker eyes. “Maybe there is. This time it’s true.” 

Yami burst out laughing. 

Both of them turned to look at him incredulously and he just shook his head, “You two…honestly,” he said between peals of giggles. He turned to walk out of the operating rooms, knowing that his job was done now that he apologized to Rafael and made his point clear to him. 

He found both his colleagues falling into step beside him. 

“In a much better mood, isn’t he?” Rafael asked Seto over his head. 

Yami turned to glare at the blond. 

“He has mood swings, don’t worry about it,” Seto replied calmly. 

Yami turned the other side to direct his glare at him. 

“You seem to know him so well, Kaiba. How long have you been dating?” 

Yami rolled his eyes, shook his head once more and smirked lightly at the blatant way they seemed to decide to team up on him. He wondered why he usually inspired such a response to have people just taking Seto’s side against him. He couldn’t blame Rafael; after all, as Yugi himself had taken Seto’s side eventually and he was supposed to be his _brother_. “Seriously, Rafael. That’s a new low from you,” he chastised the blond anyway, exiting the operating theaters wing and heading towards the elevators. 

“Can’t beat them, as they say,” Rafael cheekily told him.

“You can’t join me. I’m not into threesomes,” Seto deadpanned.

“You are a little shit, Kaiba,” Yami calmly replied, shaking his head when they both started laughing.

They stood in front of the elevators and he pressed the call button. At that moment, his cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen and seeing Yugi’s picture next to the caller ID. He missed Seto’s comeback to his insult as he checked the time seeing that it was past one in the morning. Heart skipping a beat with sudden anxiety and wondering why his brother could be calling at such an hour, he answered. 

“Hello,” he said, trying to remain calm. He was aware of Seto and Rafael quibbling in the background and he ignored them. 

“Hey Yami,” Yugi’s voice came from the other side of the phone. In the few moments until he spoke next, Yami felt his heart rate calming a little because his brother’s voice sounded alright, healthy without breathlessness or pain. “You at the hospital now?” 

He felt his heart sinking again. 

“Of course, where else would I be? What’s wrong?” 

“Err… I am not sure how it works around here… I have a friend who needs some help,” Yugi rushed out. 

Yami easily recognized the tone; the one Yugi adopted when he did something stupid and was trying to ask Yami for help. And for God’s sake, friend? How sociable was his brother anyway? He didn’t even hit the three week mark in Domino and he already had friends? 

Yami took a deep breath. 

“Where are you now?” he asked, trying to remain calm and avoid getting frustrated with his brother. 

“I’m in the ER. We’re waiting for our turn.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said with a sigh. 

He hung up and automatically, his hand rose to the call button to frantically press it several times impatiently. He noticed the background noise faded. He blinked and looked behind him to find both Seto and Rafael watching him intently with identical questioning looks on their faces. He sighed and looked back at the closed elevator doors, once again pressing the call button. 

“Really Yami, don’t be an idiot, pressing it several times won’t call it faster,” Seto grumbled haughtily and Yami didn’t deign a reply other than another roll of his eyes. “What did Yugi want?” 

Yami looked up at him, “How did you know it was Yugi?” he asked suspiciously. 

“I know everything,” he replied with ease and Rafael chuckled disbelievingly behind them. “Is he okay?” 

Yami nodded, “Yeah, he’s downstairs though. Said that one of his friends needed help.” 

“Doesn’t waste time your brother, does he?” Seto asked, voicing what Yami decided not to, as the elevator doors dinged open. 

They let the group of junior ophthalmology residents out, Yami just barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes at the excited shrieks and chatter and general buzz they spoke with over a case of a ruptured globe, curbing the urge to show them the compound, grade four fracture they had to fix at the start of the shift, knowing that the group would probably faint considering how delicate their work was compared to his. He resisted the evil streak within him and entered the elevator’s small space with Seto and Rafael trailing behind him. 

“So where is he now?” Seto insisted. 

“Downstairs, I said,” Yami grunted. 

“And why are _you_ coming with us?” the brunet turned to Rafael. 

“Kaiba, you don’t own the goddamn building,” the anesthesiologist replied. 

Seto sighed. “I once owned a building, you know…” they didn’t say anything to that, silence hanging over the elevator for a few milliseconds, then he added, “I actually owned several buildings.” 

“Sorry to let you know that that’s in the past, Princess.” 

“You’re a right ass, Rafael, you know that?”

Yami giggled and instantly felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little. The huge part of him filled with fond annoyance at Seto’s antics and the way he seemed adamant to make him sound as if he has fallen head over heels for him was flooded with sudden affection and warmth. The realization that the silly banter between the two had been for his benefit, to soothe the change in his mood after his brother’s call. He ignored the light flutter in stomach at the way Seto sounded so much like him more and more and what it implied.

There was silence after that until they reached the ground floor. Yami headed with steady steps to the emergency room’s inner entrance, his eyes already searching the waiting area for his brother. Within a few seconds, he recognized the back of one of his hoodies –because no matter how old they were going to get, Yugi was _still_ going to borrow his clothes without asking. There was a long- and brown-haired person sitting beside his brother, their head hanging low.

Only when Yami stepped in front of the seated pair did he realize that Yugi’s ‘friend’ was a beautiful brunette with milky skin and blue eyes and a disturbingly similar appearance to one Seto Kaiba, that only with extreme difficulty did he refrain from turning around to admonish him for not telling him he had a sister. 

He stopped himself just in time, though, seeing the frightened expression in the blue eyes, the bruise spreading hideously over the otherwise very beautiful features that such an injury had no place on. The brown hair covered a large part of a wound that spread along her hairline. It was obviously made with such force that the surrounding tissues turned an ugly shade of blue and red and violet. Very quickly, he made note of the jacket he recognized as Yugi’s own draped over narrow shoulders, otherwise bare with the characteristic ballerina leotard she was wearing. That, coupled with the very short chiffon skirt she was wearing and white stockings covering unbearably long legs had Yami glance at his brother questioningly, exasperated at the pleading look in the amethyst eyes and the way they clearly begged him to ask questions later. 

He sighed, doing just that. 

“Hey,” he greeted. The young woman gave no outward reaction to it, her eyes still wide with fear, almost like a deer caught in headlights. She was apparently in shock and there was no wonder why. A part of him could understand too well how she felt right now. Resolutely, he pushed away that thought and asked, “Can you tell me what your name is?” 

A few seconds of silence passed slowly, almost like an eternity. 

Finally, she opened her mouth and spoke, broken syllables at first and low at first, then clearer and louder. “A…Anzu… Anzu Mazaki.” 

“Do you know where you are, Anzu?” he asked, taking his phone out of his pocket once again. 

“Hospital.” 

He switched on the flashlight on his phone. “I’m just going to check your pupils, alright? Don’t be scared,” he said and approached her carefully; he had seen too many trauma patients to have an idea what this young woman went through. This was too personal as well so he knew exactly how to approach her. He waited for her nod of approval and moved towards her with the flashlight, checking the pupil response in the eye on the uninjured side of her head first, then on the other side, breathing just a bit calmer when it gave an equal and even response. “Do you know what time is it, Anzu?” 

“Err…an hour or two after midnight? I…I’m not so sure,” she looked hesitant. 

He nodded, “That’s right… Don’t worry, I am just checking if this nasty blow to your head did something more than a bruise. Come with me, let’s get you inside an exam room and I will call one of the emergency residents to take a look at you.” 

He spoke slowly, letting his smooth voice do its job, soothing the nervous wreck this girl was. He exchanged another look with Yugi, then with Seto, whose blue eyes were narrowed thoughtfully, a hint of anger in them. He left them in the waiting area, gently placing a hand on Anzu’s elbow to guide the way to the exam rooms. 

She was walking slowly and Yami barely kept himself from trying to ask questions yet, knowing that Ryuji was going to ask and sparing her having to explain herself more times than necessary. 

“Aren’t you…?” she was asking softly. 

“Aren’t I what?” he asked her, leading the way behind the curtain in the empty exam room. 

“Yugi said…you were a doctor…” she hesitantly said. 

He grinned at her over the screen of his phone that displayed his contacts, then looked at it once again to scroll down to Ryuji’s number. “I am… it’s the proper hospital protocol that an emergency doctor looks at you first, though. I am just a surgeon.” 

She chuckled softly and he could feel, automatically, his grin widening at the soft sound. Now that felt so much more natural than the ugly bruise marring her features and he determinedly raised the phone to his ear, intent on getting this young woman help, no matter what her background was. 

Ryuji answered after a few rings. He sounded breathless and Yami’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at the, “Yes, Sensei!” he answered the phone with. He could clearly make the connection that the dark-haired emergency resident was with Honda right now, because Ryuji didn’t pick up on the annoying habit of calling him that except after spending some time with the junior surgery resident. He now understood why Yugi was waiting for their turn, even though the emergency room was mostly empty at this hour. 

He resolutely tried not to think of why Ryuji sounded so breathless and tried concentrating on the matter at hand, reminding himself that as long as Honda and Ryuji both focused on their work, it was none of his business what they did when together. With that in mind, he asked, “Where are you? Err… I need you to look at someone for me, please?”

Immediately, the younger man replied, “I’ll be there in a minute, Dr. Motou… where are you now?”

“Trauma, room 3…” Yami replied and got another confirmation from him that he would be there immediately, then hung up. His concerns about his junior’s and his boyfriend’s activities were killed completely with how quickly Ryuji slipped into his usual professionalism at the mention of work. He turned back to the woman seated sideways on the bed, informing her, “He’s coming over right now.”

She nodded. The frightened look was back. He knew they might need one of their female colleagues to look her over, but he left that decision in Ryuji’s hands.

“So what’s the difference?” she asked. He stared questioningly at her. “You and him…?”

Realization dawned on Yami. “Oh… I am a surgeon. I carry out operations, to put it simply. I specialize in surgeries related to traumatic incidents, more often than not, but I can do a whole lot of other kinds as well. Ryuji is an emergency medicine resident; he deals with, as you can probably imagine, emergencies. Those can be medical like heart attacks and sugar comas or poisoning cases… or ones that require further action, like fractures, burns…”

He made sure he kept up the same tone of voice; low and soothing. It was the only thing he could do, seeing how tense she was. He wanted to ask how old she was, how did she and Yugi meet, what happened to her. He recalled the pleading look on Yugi’s features and stifled a sigh.

“I didn’t know there was a difference. You all look the same to me,” she whispered, shifting slightly on the bed and Yami did not miss the wince that crossed her pretty features and disappeared quickly within moments. 

He pretended he didn’t see anything. 

They stayed in silence, with the nurse prepping the area within the curtain’s enclosure for the upcoming exam, until Ryuji walked in with hurried steps. 

Unsurprisingly, Honda trailed behind him. 

Yami stared suspiciously at the two of them and there was absolutely no way his usual state of hyperawareness of his surroundings and the people in them could miss the way both simultaneously blushed. He averted his gaze and decided not to tease them about it, seeing how embarrassed both of them were and turned to Anzu. 

“What’s up?” Ryuji asked, stepping beside him and taking the clipboard file from the nurse. 

The redness on his features was gradually fading as he quickly scanned what was written in the sheet the brunette and Yugi filled out before Yami arrived and a grim look spread in the sharp green eyes. Ryuji sat on the stool beside the bed where Anzu was sitting, hung the clipboard on the bar on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. 

“Hello,” he said. 

She blinked. She turned to look at Yami, as if for reassurance which he tried to offer in a tiny smile. She turned back to Ryuji. “Hello,” she replied. 

“Ms. Mazaki, my name’s Ryuji Otogi and I am the emergency resident on call today,” he calmly introduced himself. She nodded, signifying that she understood him. “Given the nature of your injuries, would you like me to get one of my female colleagues to take my place?” 

Yami’s ears rang for a moment and he wondered what exactly was written on the clipboard and he wanted to slap himself for not even sneaking a look. He grabbed Honda by the hem of his scrubs and pulled him towards the curtains. “Anzu, if you need anything, just let us know,” he said, dragging his junior outside, quickly before they made the woman any more uncomfortable. 

He only let go of Honda when the younger man realized the reason why he was being dragged away, the term patient-privacy obviously making a reappearance in his mind which was evidently still addled by whatever he and Ryuji were doing before they arrived. He fell into step beside Yami, asking as they headed towards the waiting area once again, “Who is that? She looks like Dr. Kaiba.”

“Yes she does…and I don’t know, she’s one of my brother’s friends,” Yami answered him, distracted. Once again, his eyes sought out his brother in the waiting area and to his slight irritation, he found him sitting between Seto and Rafael, both of them clearly having a lovely time questioning the young man about him. “Yugi, let’s get something to drink from the cafeteria,” he hurriedly—and quite rudely—interrupted what seemed to be Yugi’s way of helping him by patiently describing to both his colleagues exactly what he liked for breakfast and that he preferred latte over a cappuccino.

Thankfully, Yugi immediately excused himself and followed him, apologetically glancing behind him at the twin grumpy groans coming from Seto and Rafael. Yami shot back a glare at both of them, grateful that for once, Seto was acting mature and remained seated and didn’t try to follow them.

Quietly, they picked two cartons of juice from the cafeteria and stood paying for them. Yugi grumbled and glared when Yami said he would pay, so Yami just let him pay for his own drink knowing that his younger brother was a complete idiot when it came to such things. They walked slowly back towards the emergency room, stopping just around the corner that took them to the waiting area, standing beside a decorative statue of one of the founders of the hospital. With identical movements that had Yami musing to himself at how alike he and Yugi were, they unwrapped the plastic around the straws, crushing it in their hands as they poked at the foil-covered hole in the carton, pushing the straw inside until they reached the crinkly little bend in it.

After the first sip, Yami allowed himself to ask questions.

“Who is that?”

Tactless, without finesse, he was aware. But it was the way to go with Yugi. There was no need to sugar-coat things and cajole information.

Unsurprisingly, Yugi answered honestly. “She lives in the room next to mine in the dorms I’ve moved to.” He paused, taking a sip out of his juice. “She said hello a couple of times. I don’t know anything about her but I heard noises and something breaking. I thought I’d keep to myself, but fifteen minutes later, she knocked and asked for help.”

Yami looked at the labels written on the juice carton, staying silent for a few moments. 

Yugi spoke again. “She looks better now than she did an hour ago.” Yami looked at him. His lips were pursed, amethyst eyes resolutely fixed on the sign that read “RADIOLOGY” in bold, red font. He turned to face Yami suddenly, a closed expression on his features as he added, “She looked almost as horrible as you did back then.” 

Immediately, at hearing those words, Yami’s eyes widened in realization. 

“Yugi…” he whispered, closing his eyes and letting out a long suffering sigh. 

“Don’t start…” Yugi grunted at him quietly. Yami opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t really have anything to say. He wasn’t given the chance to think of something, really, since Yugi added, “I remember how useless I was to you back then. I want to do something for her.” 

“ _You weren’t useless_ ,” Yami vehemently retorted. Yugi snorted. “Yugi… listen to me. You were not useless. There was nothing more you could do about how things went after that day, alright? I was an idiot. Oh my God…” he exclaimed, raising a hand to rub his forehead nervously. “I had _no idea_ you had this stupid thought for all these years, Yugi…”

Yugi shot him a sarcastic look.

“Look…the decisions I took after that day were mine alone. You did your part, Yugi. You talked to me. You yelled and screamed and if it wasn’t for the fact that you just couldn’t do it, you’d have punched me in the face to _make me_ listen to you. You did your part,” he repeated, stepping away from the wall and standing in front of his brother. He held his gaze in determination. “Don’t shoulder a burden heavier than you can carry, Yugi. This girl isn’t me and what happened with me doesn’t have to be repeated. Don’t think this is some kind of project you can take on and it will magically fix things.”

Quickly, anger rose in Yugi’s pale purple eyes.

“This isn’t a project, Yami; if this is what you think of her and yourself, then you better shut up right now or I will really show you that right now I can and will punch you in the face…” 

Yami sighed once again, his head hanging for a few moments in which he took several calming breaths, allowing Yugi to do the same. There was no point in getting defensive or angry. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it that way,” he muttered, looking up into his brother’s eyes. “I just don’t want you to spend another decade or so thinking that you couldn’t help yet another person like me. Not because it’s true, but because you’re wrongly blaming yourself for how late you think a person in such a situation chooses to walk away.” 

Yugi took a deep breath and closed his eyes, turning his head away for a few moments while letting out the breath he was holding. He opened his eyes once more and told him in a small voice, “I still want to help her, Yami… let’s just make sure she’s okay and take it from there, alright?” 

Yami pursed his lips, for a moment thinking of trying to continue arguing with Yugi, then decided against it. He knew his brother had determination five times more than anyone he ever met. There was no stopping him from doing something once he set his mind to it. 

“Alright, kiddo…” he said, resigned. Yugi looked up at him in shock. “Don’t give me that look; I know you won’t shut up about it or let anyone stop you doing what you want so let’s go check on her and we’ll see what we can do after that. Just…be careful.” 

Yugi numbly nodded.

Yami waited for him to drain the rest of his juice while he held his own bottle. His appetite was lost suddenly at the unexpected conversation and the equally unexpected memories sprung on him against his will even as he tried so hard not to think of them. Ever since he set eyes on the brown-haired ballerina with an expression in her blue eyes too familiar to him since he saw it countless times staring back at him in the mirror through strange crimson eyes that he no longer recognized with how haunted they were. 

He swallowed, taking deep breaths and practicing grounding exercises to prevent sending himself into a panicked state. Once he was sure he had himself under control, he told Yugi to come on, directing him to a waste basket so he could throw out his empty carton, then they turned around the corner where they had been standing to reenter the emergency room’s waiting area. 

Seto was in the process of sitting back down beside Rafael and Honda. They joined them, Yami pushing the mostly full carton of juice at Seto when he childishly pointed at it and puffed up his cheeks, clearly reminding him of his ‘diet’. “Choke on that, Kaiba. Rid us of your stupidity,” he commented. 

He took a seat next to him, however, crossing his legs and sitting back, watching the entrance of the ER while listening to Seto’s mock-hurt tones as he ranted ceaselessly about how Yami was being mean to him to anyone who would listen. 

The doors opened and a tall man with olive-skin and dreadlocks entered. Yami tensed slightly, anticipating a case, but then saw that the man was walking briskly towards the reception, not appearing to be hurt or hindered in any way. He watched him for lack of something better to do and trying to drown out Seto’s drone, next to him, as the tall, tanned man stood asking the receptionist something. Yami noticed that he had many piercings and wondered if that eyebrow one hurt as much as he thought it would hurt.

Unfortunately, his distraction disappeared towards the trauma area and he was forced to listen to Seto once more.

“As my boyfriend, you are expected to be romantic,” he was saying.

Yami snorted. 

“For some reason, Kaiba, I don’t believe that he’s your boyfriend,” Rafael commented, chuckling and shutting his eyes tiredly. 

“He is. We went out on a date together,” Seto snapped. 

“One date is hardly enough to say he’s your boyfriend,” Honda snickered out. Yami smiled, secretly deciding to let the kid scrub up with him on the next major surgery, just for his cheek. “I mean, Ryuji and I had to…” he paused, paling slightly. 

Yami, Seto and Rafael all laughed at him. He turned a bright shade of red and covered his face with his hand, embarrassed. Yugi looked at the four of them questioningly and, from between evil little chuckles, Yami explained, “Honda and Ryuji are together. They think no one knows but we all knew already…” 

“Sensei!” Honda exclaimed, his blush deepening impossibly.

Yami started laughing once more, but froze suddenly. In fact, all of them stopped laughing and turned as one towards the loud sound of banging coming from the trauma areas. A millisecond later, the loud, noisy crash of multiple stainless steel items hitting the ground was followed by the sound of a woman screaming and indistinct sounds of a male’s voice grunting and yelling obscenities.

Next thing they knew, Ryuji’s voice rang out throughout the entire emergency room. Unmistakable panic was lacing his words as he yelled, apparently at the top of his lungs, “SECURITY, TRAUMA ROOM 3!” 

Honda, at hearing Ryuji’s voice—usually quiet and soothing, never an octave higher than necessary—raised like that, jumped as if stung from his place and broke into a run towards it. Hot on his heels and without a second thought Rafael and Seto followed him. Immediately identifying what was happening for what it was, Yami ordered Yugi sternly to sit down and remain in his place. He had seen cases of violence against medical personnel far too many times in Egypt to remain calm about it and not rush into action, and Yugi knew of it as well so it was the same for him as well. He turned to the nurse, urging her to call security and direct them to the trauma areas and followed his three colleagues after that. He berated himself in his mind for his lack of concentration. There was only one case being treated in the trauma area. He should have known that the man with dreadlocks was trouble.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he reached the trauma room and took in the scene quickly.

The room was a complete mess. The curtain Anzu and Ryuji and the nurse were behind was torn down, two dressing carts’ contents splayed and scattered all over the floor, in addition to the one that Ryuji and his assistant were using to treat Anzu. Saline was spilled all over the floor from where the kidney dish holding it was toppled over and the white tiles were streaked with the dark reddish-brown droplets of betadine solution. The strong smell of alcohol indicated that a bottle of that had been spilled as well. Cotton and rolls of fresh gauze were scattered near the toppled over cart and Yami could see a couple of unopened surgical blades fallen down beside it, along with scissors, needle holders and forceps.

The nurse who was with Ryuji when they left him was standing in the room’s corner, hands clasped firmly on her mouth—quite uselessly since she was screaming once again—letting Yami know that she was the one who had screamed before. She was pressing herself into the wall as if trying to become one with it and avoid the scene that took place before her.

Yami had arrived to see Seto and Rafael both pulling the man with dreadlocks away from Honda, Ryuji and Anzu. Yami quickly understood what happened; Ryuji had been standing between their attacker and Anzu, protecting the young woman when this disaster started. Honda had arrived and placed himself between his lover and his assailant, while Seto and Rafael had hauled the latter away. To his horror, he glimpsed the glint of the pocketknife the man had been holding and his breath stopped for a second, realizing that this wasn’t just a couple of fists thrown; this man was armed.

To his relief, Rafael was using his superior build to throw himself down on the man. They crashed to the floor together with equal grunts, Rafael making sure to firmly press the hand holding the knife down, pinning it well while Seto safely removed it from his hold, which had loosened with the shock of colliding with the ground. He had the sense to throw it to the farthest corner of the room and out of reach. 

It wasn’t without damage, however, Yami noted now that the immediate danger was removed and he could focus his attention on Ryuji and Anzu. The girl was not in a worse state than before, it seemed. At least not physically. She had a wild look in her eyes, horrified and panicked and about to pass out at being attacked twice in one night. There was no visible wounds on her except the ones she arrived with. 

Ryuji, however… 

The emergency resident’s scrub-top was stained bright red at his right shoulder and his upper chest. Blood was quickly soaking through his clothes and Yami needed to see the nature of that wound, _immediately_! 

Honda was in a state of panic that rendered him completely useless and Yami couldn’t blame him. The kid wasn’t a surgeon right now. He wasn’t a medical person giving care. He was now the spouse of an injured patient and he needed to be treated thusly, especially since he was now holding Ryuji in his arms, swearing and yelling unintelligibly and generally getting in the way with his fear. 

Yami, for the second time tonight, grabbed Honda by his scrub’s top and pulled him closer.

“Take care of Anzu while I look at Ryuji’s wound,” he calmly ordered. Honda’s wild brown eyes, whose pupils were narrowed to pinpoints with the rush of adrenaline, wandered from Yami, to the scared girl huddled close to them and trying to become smaller, back to Ryuji, then towards the man with dreadlocks who was still yelling obscenities and raving, only this time under the heavy hands of the hospital’s security who just arrived to relieve Rafael and Seto of their burden. “Honda!” he severely snapped, raising his voice a little and tugging on the blue cloth once more. The younger man fixed his eyes on him once more. “Do what I am telling you to, I need to look at his wound right now and you are getting in my way!”

Honda blinked once, twice… then snapped out of whatever crazed trance he was in.

“Oh God…” he whispered, looking at his lover, who was still high on the adrenaline rush since he wasn’t showing any outward signs of pain yet and was trying to get to Anzu, apparently his instincts telling him to continue protecting his patient and not allowing him to acknowledge his own injury.

Yami, once Honda let go of Ryuji and settled him down on the floor, immediately took over. He called the kid by his name twice to get his attention and keep it on him.

“Ryuji, I need you to stay calm,” he said in a firm tone holding the green eyes’ gaze with his own and speaking calmly. “I need you to calm down for me so I can see how bad that wound is, alright? You’re bleeding too quickly and I need you to try and keep yourself calm while I look at it and we can see what we can do about it, can you do that for me please?”

He kept up a chatter in the same tone of voice for a few more seconds until, true enough, Ryuji began calming down, his heart rate calming beneath Yami’s fingers which had reached for his neck and his wrist.

Yami felt Seto dropping next to him just as Ryuji took in a sharp breath. “Sensei,” he spoke. Yami was pleased, the part of him that was worried about the patency of the kid’s airway settling down when he talked. “Did the security get him?”

“Yeah, kid, don’t worry about that and worry about yourself for now,” Yami answered him. He took the pair of scissors that Seto produced seemingly out of nowhere and started cutting the scrub top away to reveal the injury properly to their eyes. Seto was quickly putting on gloves, handing Yami a pair and while he snapped them on, the brunet was holding his head close to Ryuji’s nose and mouth, directing his face towards his chest as he looked, listened and felt for breathing. Satisfied by his findings, he grabbed a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around Ryuji’s arm.

Yami took a closer look at the wound. It was deep. It was located just two fingers’ breadth below Ryuji’s right clavicle and just three to the outside of his sternum. But although it was deep and bleeding heavily, it seemed that it wasn’t a stab. He took a deep breath, feeling much calmer now and reached inside the wound, feeling its true depth under all that blood and reaching for its base.

“Ryuji… I want you to take a deep breath for me, kid, can you?” he said and was glad to see the dark-haired head nodding curtly. He watched for any paradoxical motions, kept his fingers in the wound to feel for air, paying close attention to the symmetry of the chest motions. All of his worries faded and he sighed in relief, nodding at Seto who was waiting for his verdict. “Just skin, soft tissue and muscles. No pneumothorax.”

He glanced at the blood pressure reading, confirming a 130/90 and sat back down on his haunches beside his ‘patient’.

“You’re gonna be fine, Ryuji,” he said. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

 *-*-*-*-*-*

By the time the entire fiasco was over, it was a little past six in the morning. These things took a much shorter time in Egypt than they did in Japan, he decided as he made sure to let Honda know that he had the rest of the shift and a few days off to take care of his lover, who was now asleep in the passenger’s seat of Honda’s car as the painkillers he was given took away the pain he had been in and pulled him under to sleep.

Yami and Seto were the ones who stitched up the wound. It wasn’t a stab but it was deep. Thankfully as they had both confirmed, it wasn’t deep to reach the lung or its surrounding pleura and did not cause a collapse. Otherwise Ryuji would not have been sent home and their job would not have been simple stitches; he would have been sent to an operating theater to get a chest tube inserted and would have been a guest at the hospital for many days after. He and Seto made sure no significant lasting mark was left on him, though, stitching the torn muscles then perfectly aligning the open skin, Seto placing the most beautiful simple interrupted sutures Yami had ever seen in his entire life.

All in all, they made sure they gave Ryuji the surgeon-version of a good pampering.

They left the rest up to Honda, who thanked him and drove away. Yami watched him leave then reentered the hospital.

“What a night…” Seto grunted the moment he saw him.

Yami shook his head, not knowing what to say to reply to that. He could never get used to this. It was even more difficult for his colleagues here, he knew, since an attack on medical personnel on hospital premises was so unbelievable here. It had been a once a week occurrence –at _least_ —in Egypt. And the difference was that usually, he was outnumbered, without backup from colleagues and with security smoking pot outside and laughing at their predicament. Here, things were different.

Here, statements were taken by the police from each and every one of them. Yami and Seto wrote reports in addition to that, describing the damage inflicted on Ryuji. A committee had been formed by the hospital to investigate the incident to try and prevent similar ones from taking place in the future. The syndicate was called and a representative arrived to take a statement. There was a bunch of other measures taken that made such a huge fuss out of the incident, Yami didn’t know if the reaction was blowing it out of proportions, or Egypt just ensured absolutely no rights when a doctor was attacked thusly. His mind provided that perhaps it was a bit of both.

It didn’t make it any less difficult though. They were all shaken badly by what happened. The head of the hospital had been notified immediately. He called the doctors and nurses who were to take over the next shift, asking them to arrive earlier to give them the rest of the shift off and he told them and the nurse who had been present to take three days paid leave to recover; Ryuuji was off until he made full physical recovery. He also said the hospital was to pay for counseling after the incident for all of them. Yami had wanted to giggle at that, but knew it would be inappropriate.

Yami had told Honda to take as long as he needed and that he would make sure his shifts were covered. Between himself and the other junior residents, he would ensure Ryuji had Honda by his side during most of his recovery.

“I’m glad it’s over,” he commented as an afterthought, distracted by his next worry.

Anzu was moved to the observation areas. She would be kept there for a few hours to ensure that the blow to her head –which needed seven stitches to a wound that Yugi had cleaned before their arrival at the hospital—didn’t cause any delayed hemorrhage. She had given her statement. She wasn’t going to press charges when she first arrived at the hospital, but after getting attacked a second time, she had a change of heart regarding the matter.

The man with dreadlocks was her dance instructor in the ballet school she was attending. He had a very weird name that sounded like a cheesy pick-up line. She had rejected him several times, but he obviously couldn’t take no for an answer. Tonight, he had attacked her at the empty center, giving her the injuries she had arrived with. She had returned home and sought out Yugi’s help, but apparently, the man was either very stupid or just crazy and decided he needed to look for her at Domino’s hospitals, since he went to her place at the dorms and didn’t find her there.

Yugi had been present at the statement she gave. She had insisted and he complied, sitting next to her carefully and allowing her to hold his hand while doing so.

Yami headed for the observation rooms, knowing that the police was done with them. He moved quietly so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping patients and their relatives. Gently, he pushed the curtain that surrounded Anzu’s bed and stepped into the small enclosure. He turned and calmly took in the scene before him.

The woman was asleep on her side. Bandages were wrapped around her head. Thankfully, they did not have to shave a huge part of her beautiful brown hair off. She had a tight look on her face and Yami guessed she was either having unpleasant dreams or was in too much discomfort to rest properly. He had been struck by the uneasy thought that she had been sexually assaulted, especially that Ryuji had been offering a female resident to examine her. His curiosity caused him to double check the list of things used in the nurse’s notes after one of those female residents examined Anzu anyway, continuing where Ryuji left. To his complete unease, he saw that a rape kit had been used. He had been feeling nauseous ever since.

He tried pushing away those thoughts and his gaze shifted towards Yugi. His brother was half seated in the bedside chair, half lying down on the bed next to Anzu. Their hands were close to each other. Apparently, they were holding them together when sleep caught up with them. He wondered if his brother knew the extent of the abuse this girl had seen. He then remembered that Yugi was present for the statement she gave; most probably, he was very much aware of what happened.

Yami sighed. Yugi was going to have his hands full…

Gently, he reached out and tenderly placed his hand in Yugi’s hair in a gesture he remembered from their childhood years. Unfailingly, Yugi’s eyes opened and he blinked, looking around him, then remembering where he was and what happened.

He rubbed his eyes and followed Yami outside the curtain.

“You okay?” Yami asked.

“I should be asking you that…” Yugi mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“I’m fine…just another day at the office,” Yami teased, a little smile tugging on his lips. “Are you going home?”

Yugi shook his head. “No…it’s alright, I’ll wait until she’s discharged. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

Yami stared at him silently for a few seconds.

“Yami, for once, could you please believe me when I tell you I am a responsible adult and I know what I am doing?” Yugi groaned out softly.

Yami sighed, for what seemed like the millionth time this shift. “Alright… I believe you. And I believe in you. Just remember to eat and drink water. She needs you healthy.” He told him. Yugi’s frown smoothed out. He added, “If you need anything just call me. I will be going home now to get some rest. It’s been a very long night.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be fine. Will they give me instructions when she gets released, though?” Yugi asked him.

Yami nodded, “They will tell you everything you need to know, don’t worry. And as I said, if you need anything, call me any time.”

And with that, he gave him a one armed hug, patting his head twice, then turning to leave.

Seto was waiting for him just outside the observation areas. He was carrying Yami’s bag. He gave it to him and they walked side by side, slowly, out into the parking areas.

As they reached their cars, Seto spoke.

“Can we meet up for some coffee tonight?” Yami looked up at him. “Just to chat a little… I am not trying to be annoying,” the brunet clarified.

Yami grinned tiredly up at him. “Yes, of course… of course we can. I’d love to,” he mumbled. “You don’t have to justify it, really.”

Seto smiled back at him. Not a smirk, not that arrogant little twitch that annoyed him so much. No, this was one of _those_ smiles.

The brunet told him they’d meet at the coffee-shop by the pier at five, giving themselves ample time to sleep. He then got into his car, started it up and drove away after saying goodbye.

Yami smiled softly to himself for a few moments, then started up his own car and drove home.

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*-*


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!!! I am just here to tell you that the art at the beginning of this chapter is by the great, GREAT, Capsaicin... who is just pure talent walking this earth among us and I do not know how to respond to her great piece of art. I have been turned into a blubbering puddle by the work and I just needed to share it with all of you. 
> 
> You may find the original work here: https://kuriiiiiiiiiii.tumblr.com/
> 
> Go worship the artist please... worship the artist till it's understood how much Kami they actually are xD

[ ](http://coconutcat.lofter.com/post/1729c4_10acf7e1)

He woke up groggy at a little past three in the afternoon. He stayed in bed, pulling the covers closer and trying not to move too far away from the spot he had been asleep in, so he wouldn’t feel the saddening cold spot on the other side of the bed. It was years since he woke up next to someone. Forlornly, his hand reached slowly to the other side, leaving the warmth and touching the depressing coolness next to him. He clenched his fist, staring glumly at the crisp light of winter that drifted sneakily from the space between the closed curtains of the window.

His mind played the events of the previous night and he found himself angry suddenly at the head of their hospital; just why did he give them three days off? Now he had nothing to do or work to immerse himself in so he wouldn’t have to think about what happened, about Yugi’s words that kept ringing in his ears long after he went home and for almost a whole hour after he went to bed, until finally, tiredness won over and he slept.

Fitfully. Non-restive, discontinuous sleep and filled with a strange blend of nightmares and flashbacks. He woke several times, drinking water each time to try and chase away the bitter aftertaste lingering in his throat every time he woke up. He didn’t know if it was bile from his turning stomach or if it was an acid reflux side-effect from the tension or if it was even a psychological effect of what was going on.

He sighed tiredly, retracting his hand closer and pulling it up so he could rub his eyes, while turning to lie on his back. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, trying not to think of anything in particular because he knew that whatever thought he had, no matter how mundane, would eventually lead him to thinking of things better left forgotten.

Deciding that that would be impossible unless he got up and busied himself with anything, he took a deep breath and did just that. He got up, turned on his coffee machine and left it to percolate while he showered quickly and changed into jeans and a warm grey pullover. He finished drying his hair and, as an afterthought and with a little smile playing on his lips, he pulled the scarf Seto refused to take back from him and wrapped it around his neck.

He sat next to the window overlooking the sea, sipping his coffee and looking at the high waves and the cloudy sky. It looked like it was going to rain later and he made a mental note to invest in an umbrella. Even if he had a car, some places he didn’t take the car to and he saw for himself how thick the downpour in Domino was; he didn’t think, no matter how healthy he was, he could pull off getting caught in the rain without catching a cold as a result.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, enjoying the muted sounds of the sea and agitated seagulls whose flurry of motion promised the rain he predicted. The fumes from the coffee were hitting the cool skin on his face, his cheeks starting to dry up just a little bit as they usually did in winter. He wanted to get some lotion to avoid the annoying, chafe that would most probably develop soon. He smiled to himself a little, wondering when his cheeks would redden when he warmed his hands. Bakura always made sure to poke fun at him when that happened. On the good days, of course, which were few and far between, he was sad to recall…

His thoughts came to screeching halt and his eyes flew open, heart rate suddenly rising and the peace that the breaking waves brought dissipated by the mere memory. He jumped up from where he had been seated, only just managing not to spill the contents of the half-full mug of coffee all over the carpet and the wooden floor. He swallowed convulsively against the bile that rose to the back of his throat and shuddering slightly at the ill feeling rushing through him at the memories the thought of the name brought back.

It wasn’t even the ‘memories’. It was something like muscle memory but in a much more depressing and dark way. It was like a phantom pain that spread throughout his entire body, reminding him of dark times not because of a flashback, but just because the name was mentioned.

He briskly walked around the house, heading to his room and placing his mug on the nightstand. He opened the windows, tidied the bed, picked up his scrubs and threw them in the dirty laundry basket, then going around collecting as many dishes as he could –unfortunately not a lot—and taking them to the kitchen to stand washing them methodically in front of the sink.

By the time he was done, it was just past four. He went looking for his phone and called Honda to check on Ryuji. The junior surgery resident picked up after only two rings, sounding a lot better than he did in the early morning hours while Ryuji was getting treated. He asked if they needed a grocery run and to his surprise, Honda told him that Seto brought stuff over about two hours ago. He smiled to himself at that and told Honda to tell Ryuji to get well soon and reassured him again not to worry about his shifts and that he got them covered.

He ended the call, then proceeded to find Yugi’s number to call him next. His brother did not call him during the day, so he assumed that Anzu was doing fine. He waited patiently for Yugi to pick up. He was just about to cancel the call when it kept ringing for too long, but heard him picking up just when he was about to touch the end call option.

Yugi sounded tired, but a lot more cheerful than yesterday. They were getting ready to be discharged; apparently Anzu had eaten, looked better. There seemed to be a lot more to Yugi’s high spirits, but Yami decided not to press for details yet. He knew it wasn’t the time and eventually everything will turn out alright for his little brother; things always turned out alright for him.

He hung up after giving Yugi a few extra tips on picking up some groceries for the injured brunette, absentmindedly noting that it was time to leave for his—date?—with Seto. He sighed, heavy-hearted as he locked the door after him, wondering why things didn’t usually come easy for him the way they did for Yugi. He was honest enough with himself to admit that he sometimes felt envious at the ease with which Yugi seemed to handle things. He wasn’t saying things were easy for his brother, no, but he definitely had a more effective method of handling life’s sometimes unbearable hardships in a way that made Yami wish he was blessed with.

He supposed it was all about energies. He just attracted difficulties because he handled them badly. He shook his head, pulling the car out of the driveway. He didn’t want to wallow in self-pity. A part of him whispered that perhaps…just maybe, perhaps accepting this job wasn’t such a great idea. Maybe leaving Egypt altogether, wasn’t such a great idea. He didn’t know if it was the place’s working conditions, or if it was getting older and more experienced in his work and hence getting a less strenuous schedule, but he knew for sure that the lack of exhaustion in his work was making room for other unpleasant things to come through. The work was easy. Not too challenging physically. Not like the grueling hours and days after days of staying awake except for half-hour naps that were few and far between, without hope of going home. When he did, he was too exhausted to think about anything else.

This wasn’t the case here. At all. Even if yesterday’s shift had been exhausting enough mentally to reflect physically on him –and even then, he had problems falling asleep—he had been given three days off to recover. Instead of burying himself in work to forget about what happened, now he had more free time and less things to do to think thoroughly about things better laid to rest forever, collecting dust in a dark corner of his mind.

His heart was heavy in a way that he hadn’t felt for a very long while. Yugi’s words from yesterday were still ringing in his mind.

_“I remember how useless I was to you back then. I want to do something for her.”_

It was like a slap to the face. He was selfish. He knew that now. He thought that what happened concerned him only. He didn’t think Yugi thought that way. All he thought about was forgetting. He never tried to even imagine that what had been a traumatizing experience for him, was also a difficult time for close ones. It made him endlessly guilty, now that he thought of it, that perhaps his deceased grandfather had felt the same before he died. That he had come up short, in some way or another, where he, Yami, was concerned.

There was a bitter sensation at the back of his throat. That, coupled with his dark, depressing thoughts warranted one of those brownies Seto was so fond of. Perhaps he could order one with his coffee, since he also didn’t eat anything since yesterday early evening. Maybe share one with Seto.

The thought of the brunet finally managed to bring a smile to his lips. The heaviness he felt lightened just a bit and he parked the car and left it feeling hopeful that his outing with Seto would help take his mind off things.

He found the place they had taken up last time empty. He sat down, setting his keys and wallet down on the table, pulling at his scarf to unwrap it from around his neck and placing it beside him just as the waiter arrived with a menu, pleasantly greeting him with a smile and asking if he was going to order right away or wait for ‘Dr. Kaiba’. Yami smiled and nodded, wondering why he was not getting annoyed at people jumping to conclusions about this like he did months ago when he first arrived.

He was left alone to his thoughts and to the breathtaking view of the sea’s waves. The soft music and the sad, forlorn and slightly raspy voice of the vocalist in the song playing through the speakers, coupled with the distant whooshing sounds of the high waves breaking and the sound of the gulls all calmed his racing thoughts and he slowly began forgetting all about his worries and the feelings fighting to come out of the shadows acquiesced, returning to their blessed darkness once more.

Savoring the sensation, he glanced at his watch, seeing that it was five minutes past five. He wondered if Seto forgot all about their meeting and felt silly all of a sudden for not reminding him. His cheeks reddened slightly and he picked up the phone, about to call the brunet when the café’s door opened and Seto walked in. He was wearing the blue scarf once again, Yami was pleased to see. This time he paired it with a white knit pullover with dark jeans a pair of brown shoes.

Yami watched him as his eyes quickly scanned the place, smiling lightly when the blue eyes settled on him and glinted almost imperceptibly. The grin widened as Seto walked closer, especially when he took note of the reddened tip of his nose. He chuckled to himself as Seto pulled the chair to sit down, openly staring at the frankly adorable sight.

Seto questioningly stared at him, pulling at the scarf to remove it and reveal his neck to Yami’s eyes.

“Your nose is all red,” Yami explained, carefully not showing how much he wanted to latch on it and focusing instead of the bright red shade of the tip of his nose. Seto grinned, his hand rising so he could rub at it. Unintentionally, it just made things worse and Yami laughed at him once more and Seto playfully batted at him with the extra menu the waiter brought over.

“Did you sleep well?” Seto asked, glancing at him from above the menu.

Yami shrugged, avoiding looking at him by fixing his eyes on his own menu. “Alright, I guess,” he mumbled, thoughtfully staring at the dessert section. “Did you try anything else other than those brownies off the dessert menu?”

“Tried the molten cake and the tiramisu. The cheesecake is nothing special though,” Seto told him, eyes fixed on him for a few more seconds, before he looked down at his own menu once more. “We can share a brownie if you don’t want to ruin your diet.”

“I’m not on a diet,” Yami mumbled back at him, automatically.

“How’s your brother?” Seto asked.

“He’s okay… called him an hour ago, said that they were getting ready to get discharged,” Yami explained. He closed the menu, sitting back in the cozy chair having already decided to order a latte and play it safe with the cake and get a brownie. “She looks like you, Anzu…”

Seto hummed. He too sat back, but looked out of the window at the sea. He then closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the seat, sinking lower in it. “It’s just because she has blue eyes and brown hair. Otherwise we have very different facial structure.”

Yami frowned in confusion, realizing that something was wrong. Seto was as put together as any other time, but for some reason, some things were different. There was faint, dark smudges beneath his eyes where his lashes were resting at the moment. Worry lines were etched between his eyebrows and around his lips. The porcelain skin was just the same, but there was a very faint yellowish tinge to it and now that the brunet was inside and the redness from the cold was fading, it was getting more and more obvious.

Quickly, he scanned Seto’s body, searching for signs of distress, signs of pain or excess fatigue or dehydration. He narrowed his eyes, observing the jugular vein’s height, making sure there were no distended neck veins. He focused on his breathing, glancing at his watch and counting how many breaths he took in half a minute to confirm that he wasn’t suffering from shortness of breath or any irregularity in its pattern.

Once he confirmed that there was nothing physically wrong with him, Yami spoke.

“Are you alright?” his tone was quiet and he didn’t know if he was hoping that Seto wouldn’t hear him. it was a vain hope, though, since the blue eyes opened and focused on him, a questioning look in them. “You look tired… did something happen?”

Seto leaned forward, eyes fixed on him for a few seconds in which Yami tried very hard not to fidget. “Don’t you think yesterday counts as something?”

The waiter chose that moment to arrive with a huge smile plastered on his face, asking if they decided what they wanted already or if he should come back after a few more minutes. Yami let Seto tell him that he wanted a double-shot espresso and then said he wanted a latte and a brownie, declining any ice-cream when the kid asked him if he wanted vanilla or chocolate flavor to the cold treat normally served with the chocolaty confection.

The smiles on their faces faded just as the young man left after promising to arrive with their order shortly. They turned to face one another again, the gloom that hung over them before he arrived settling once again around them.

“Well?” Seto asked a strange look in his eyes.

Yami thought carefully of his answer. He knew there was more to the matter and to that strange look and Seto’s strange behavior. He didn’t know how he knew, but he just did. He tried to find a suitable answer. “I guess it is a traumatic experience,” he started. Seto raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled sheepishly, “Can’t say I’m too traumatized, though… at least here we have security to help.”

Seto was obviously unimpressed. Didn’t even smile in response.

Yami’s eye twitched ever-so-slightly.

“Are you alright?” he repeated.

Seto just continued staring at him and Yami felt his ire rising.

“Well… if you called me out here so we can pout at each other all evening long, then I will be just taking my leave…” he snapped.

He grabbed his phone and wallet, other hand reaching for his car keys and he moved to rise from his seat. He had enough on his mind and didn’t exactly fancy sitting there with Seto’s scowl for company for the entire evening.

Before he could fully rise, however, Seto’s hand reached for his, stopping him.

“Wait!” he said. Yami froze in his position. He fixed his eyes coldly on Seto’s, a questioning look in them. The brunet sighed, averted his eyes and ran his free hand down his face. “Just sit down, Yami.” He said, a defeated tone forcing Yami to yield, slowly sitting back in the armchair and letting go of his belongings. “I’m sorry, I’ve been on edge all day long.”

Yami said nothing, staring at him suspiciously.

“Did you even sleep?” he asked when he realized that the silence was going to stretch further.

The impossibly wide shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Alright, I guess…”

There was a pregnant pause.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” Yami grunted angrily at him. “There’s no need to insult my intelligence.”

At that, Seto looked up at him once more from where he was focused on the edge of their table, “That makes two of us, then…” Yami blinked at him. “I can see the bags under your eyes, Yami, just as you can see them under mine.”

Yami’s ears reddened and he looked away. The damn brat cornered him well. He sighed. “I didn’t sleep well at all, if that is what you’re trying to get out of me.”

“It is…” Seto deadpanned and Yami gaped at him. “You don’t have to shrug at me and tell me a lie. Automatically, I will do the same to you. And unfortunately, you really don’t get to protest it.”

Yami looked away, unable to voice his objection and his pride not allowing him to admit out loud that Seto was right. His flush remained at the reprimand. He had been thoroughly admonished, alright. It’s been so long… _so long_ , since he was completely honest with anyone. At least about these little things like a bad night’s sleep or why he looked so tired.

“I’m sorry… I did not mean to upset you the moment I walked in, really,” Seto said. Yami forced himself to look up at him. “It’s just that I wanted to ask you something about yesterday and to be honest, I was so sure that you wouldn’t share the truth with me, so when I asked how you slept and you didn’t trust me enough with something as simple as that, I lashed out,” he admitted. Yami raised an eyebrow at him, curious, but he did not elaborate, merely adding, “I didn’t mean to pick a fight out of it.”

“What did you want to ask?” Yami pressed, feeling the flush starting to disappear and the anger at being cornered fading behind his inquisitiveness.

“No, let it go,” Seto shook his head. Yami scowled at him. “Really, don’t be stubborn,” he retorted. “I asked you how you slept and you can’t trust me enough to tell me you had a shitty couple of hours of sleep. Believe me, you will not be willing to answer what I wanted to ask you.”

“Just say it, Kaiba and stop messing around,” Yami insisted. A niggling part of him warned him that perhaps he didn’t want to know and he really shouldn’t be pushing things like that. Stubbornly, out of pride, perhaps, he pushed the little voice down, a determined expression drawn on his features.

“If I tell you, you have to answer me,” Seto shrugged. Yami narrowed his eyes at him again.

“I don’t like doing things that I don’t want to do,” Yami delicately chose his words.

“And I already reassured you once before that you will not be forced to do anything you don’t want to do,” Seto calmly replied. Yami watched him closely as he leaned forward in his seat, crossing his fingers together and adding, “This isn’t a test, Yami. It’s why I don’t want to push things further after clashing over the sleep matter. I don’t want you to think you are obliged to do anything.”

“Yet here you are giving me an ultimatum,” Yami snapped, unable to stop his tone from getting heated.

Seto shook his head slowly, “This isn’t an ultimatum. Some questions cannot be asked without receiving an answer for them at that moment, Yami. If I ask what I want and you refuse to answer, then you will withdraw further away from me and I will lose you forever. You will go home, build up even higher walls that I can never penetrate.”

Yami blankly stared at him. He had made a decision to try his hardest to try and push the conspiracy theorist inside him away. Hearing Seto telling him things like he didn’t want to lose him, that he didn’t want any walls erected between them…? It tickled a very needy, very neglected part inside him that he thought he had killed many years ago.

Seto didn’t even give him a chance to think of those words. He had more to say.

“And I also don’t want to break down those walls… I want you to trust me enough to let me in. I don’t believe force, or ultimatums or whatever it is you think I am trying to do here, is what will work. I promised you that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. If I ask what I came here to ask, you could just refuse to answer and as I said, you will withdraw and we lose everything that might come out of this. Or you find yourself challenged… _forced_ to answer when you don’t want to, and in that case, I also lose because I broke the very first promise I made you and you will never trust me again.”

Yami stared unblinkingly at him. It was unimaginable. How could someone be so attentive?

In a split second of rash thinking –or lack thereof—he spoke.

“There could be a third outcome,” he said. His voice sounded strange. He felt detached. As if someone else was speaking. He could feel Seto’s eyes on him… _see_ them. But he was feeling so strange and removed from the situation, especially as he added, “I may _want_ to answer you. Truthfully. Not forced, not challenged.”

Seto smiled at him, whatever hardness in his eyes fading completely, “That is what I would like. I understand that you automatically feel the need now to withdraw since I was simply tactless. So please, if you think you will be forced into answering when you don’t want to, then just let us let the matter go. We had a very bad night and there is no need to ruin another.”

The corner of Yami’s lip rose slightly.

“So what is it you wanted to ask?” he insisted.

At that moment, as if by some divine order and setting, the waiter arrived with their coffee and Yami’s dessert. It was obvious that Seto was forcing a smile just as much as he was in order to appear nice and friendly to the young man, as he asked them about work and if they needed anything else. Reassured that there was nothing more they needed, the waiter retreated, leaving them to slowly erase their strained grins and the atmosphere to get heavier at their table.

The sun was on its way to setting. The very heavy, angry-looking clouds were hanging low, giving the illusion that the sun was halfway sunk beneath the horizon when there was still a good hour to go before that happened. There was a slight wind blowing, dragging golden fallen tree leaves in front of them in swirly patterns that looked like something out of an illustrated fairytale book. It was going to rain later, Yami came to that conclusion and he felt a little jump of happiness in his heart.

His attention was drawn away from the weather with Seto moving to take a sip out of his coffee. He watched him carefully, taking in every action, from the way he held the glass cup delicately by the handle with the thumb, forefinger and middle finger of the right hand, letting the ring finger and the little finger curl delicately around the base of it, while the tips of those long, slender digits of the opposite hand gently propped the cup on the opposite side to its handle. He raised it to his lips, subtly breathing in the rich aroma rising in faint fumes from the hot liquid, closing his eyes and tipping the cup lightly so he could take the first sip.

Yami smiled.

Seto opened his eyes and saw him and smiled back.

“What?” he asked, placing the cup back on the table and Yami noticed the way his little finger cushioned the cup lightly so it wouldn’t make a loud noise when he set it down.

So aristocratic. And it was so… _natural_ on him.

He shrugged and shook his head, reaching for the fork that came next to the brownie. With gentle pressure, he cut off a piece from the corner, loaded it on the fork and raised it to his mouth, humming softly with pleasure at the burst of rich chocolate flavor on his tongue.

“This is just great… want a bite?” he offered. Seto declined. Yami put down his fork and reach for his latte, emptying a sachet of brown sugar into it with a bit of regret, after looking at the gorgeous latte art done with the foam. He stirred it leisurely, knowing that both of them were masterfully dancing around an important topic. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t like that he didn’t know what it was. And to be very honest with himself, Seto made him want to take it on, no matter how uncomfortable it seemed to be. Taking a deep breath and hoping it wasn’t going to be some marriage proposal so early on in their…’relationship’, he decided to step up and face the issue, regardless of the outcome. He raised an eyebrow and repeated, “So what did you want to ask me?”

Seto took another sip of his drink. A few seconds passed and then he placed the cup back on the table and leaned forward slightly, staring at him. Yami knew that the brunet was not going to stall any more than that, and that since he had already insisted thrice, he was going to oblige him this time.

He was right. Without further introductions, Seto spoke.

“I overheard you and Yugi speaking last night,” he said calmly.

He froze.

So many things happened last night… and so many things that called for a conversation. However, his and Yugi’s talk was the last thing he expected the brunet to want to talk about. His mind raced a million thoughts a second and his eyes widened ever-so-slightly when he realized what Seto’s question would probably revolve around.

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening and what he was about to talk about, before he could chicken out… Seto continued, “I wanted to ask you… in what way are you, in your opinion and using your words, a project similar to the lady we saw last night.”

He was frozen in shock. The smile which had been on his lips was dead… cold. Warmth was leaving it quickly, leaving an empty expression, a mockery of what it had been behind. He knew it was a sad sight, bitterness replacing whatever made Seto smile earlier. He wasn’t ready for this. And he knew now the wisdom behind the brunet’s insistence he didn’t get to know the question unless he was going to answer of his own volition. He was now faced with those exact three outcomes they discussed. Either he raged at the question to avoid it and withdraw into the cocoon that would surely, surely protect him from the pain that answering would bring. Or, he could breathe deeply through his nose, harden his already cold crimson eyes and take this as a challenge and answer, then retreating to lick his wounded pride at showing weakness after rejecting any other association with Seto.

Or, as he said… he could try within the next few seconds to recall what trust was… and take that leap of faith they both spoke of last time they were out together and placing that trust in Seto.

He sighed deeply, hanging his head slightly and closing his eyes.

In the few seconds he kept them closed and breathed, he went over all the times over the past few months Seto proved that he was trustworthy and that he genuinely had no ulterior motive to his advances except to try and get closer to him, to gain his trust. It all boiled down to this particular moment. All the effort he spent, all the patience he invested,  the support he gave on numerous occasions where he could have just walked away and left the pile of baggage that Yami was lugging around… it all came down to this single question.

And Yami knew… that there was no challenge here. That Seto was right. This wasn’t a test. He was asking out of authentic concern that no one could dare belittle or try to taint with any negative sentiment.

He wasn’t answering out of the need to rise to some challenge. No, this was it. he sat here many months earlier and shared a piece of him that not many people were told about, out of choice. And his trust hadn’t been broken. And only weeks later, the brunet had offered a helping hand during a time that, based on previous experiences, should have been lonely and scary. He did not have to, but sat with him as he recovered from an anxiety attack, telling him it was alright, and that he understood…

Time and time again, Seto could be trusted.

He decided that this time, he would do the same. Seto earned it.

Decision made, he reopened his eyes. The warm smile that had been on his features returned, but with a forlorn tinge to it that he could see reflected in the blue eyes before him. Already, regret was spreading on Seto’s features. He was guilty he asked and insisted.

Yami shook his head. “ _I_ insisted,” he reminded in a low voice which came out softer than usual, almost a whisper. He sighed once again and reached for his coffee, not even thinking of looking at his brownie, feeling full and nauseous all of a sudden. “And I want to answer… I really do. It’s just…” he paused. He swallowed once, then raised the coffee to his lips to take a sip, if only to have something to do while trying to organize his thoughts. “I don’t know what to say…”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Seto apologetically explained. “I was coming to check on you both and you were standing just around the corner…I overheard you talking. I…I would like to know the story behind that conversation, Yami…”

He sighed. “I am not mad at you…” he said, trying to look at anything other than Seto’s probing eyes. His gaze settled on the mostly untouched brownie and he found the pattern that the chocolate sauce on top made very mesmerizing.

Seto was adamant to pull him away from how fixed he was on the pattern before him, however, “You should… and trust me, if I was in your place I’d get mad; I should have walked away when I realized the conversation was private. But I really wanted to know and you just…you didn’t say anything that could give me any more hints and I just…”

“I know you already made the conclusion that we all took bad relationship decisions one time or another,” he started, cutting off the explanatory rant Seto was launching himself into, obviously embarrassed at admitting he was eavesdropping and trying to cover it up somehow or another. Yami was not in the mood to stall, nor did he want to draw this out more than necessary. He knew he had to say something and he knew that it was going to come out like pulling out a rather stubborn tooth, so it was the right thing to do. And successfully, Seto shut up, focusing on him. “I know you’ve told me a lot about your German lover… I know I haven’t said much although you have opened up to me last time. And I know that you didn’t like that very much…”

“It’s not like that…” Seto started mumbling.

Yami shook his head, “It’s alright… you trusted me. And I know for sure that you wouldn’t share what you did with me unless you really trusted me. I…” he paused. He swallowed, not sure how to really say this, without sounding too corny, without belittling the sentiment behind it. he stared out at the rapidly darkening sky, sighing and closing his eyes for a few milliseconds in which he decided to just say it without trying to make things pretty because they simply weren’t. “I trust you as well. I don’t want you to think that I didn’t speak of it because I don’t. It’s just not easy for me and I don’t like dwelling on those times, because as you said, everyone takes stupid decisions sometimes, but I feel that it is by my own hands that I suffered and there is no point moping about it.”

Seto’s eyes softened and a light frown crinkled the area between his dark brown eyebrows. “I highly doubt that, Yami… you are so hard on yourself, it is a bit sad.”

Yami laughed bitterly. “I was brought up surrounded by self-pitying colleagues throughout school, college and practical life later and I do not know who is at fault in this, but while seeing those brooding examples, my parents made sure to instill it in me that I should take responsibility for everything happening in my life. I am very dysfunctional, Seto… and I have warned you that I carry around a lot of baggage. I know where the problem is and I have no idea how to fix it. You are right. I take responsibility for things that aren’t in my hands to control and yet I do not know how to do things any other way.” He paused, blinking and taking a deep breath, “I do not want to take side detours away from your question. I do not want you to think I am running away. And I do not want to draw this out longer than necessary. I will explain what Yugi meant and you can ask me whatever you want and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“I am sorry for forcing this,” Seto whispered softly.

Yami shook his head. “I said I wanted to answer you. I trust you. I am not a sentimental fool who will throw unnecessary words at you, Seto. Nor am I a liar. I want to tell you. Not because I want to complain; God knows I want to leave this buried and away from your ears forever. But because you asked me out of concern that only a handful of people have shown me in my life.”

Silence predominated for almost a minute, in which Yami wrapped his hands around his cup and sipped languidly from it, allowing the luxurious mixture of the strong, bitter taste of aromatic coffee and the rich sensation of smooth, creamy foam give him courage to speak.

“Yugi is both right and wrong with the comparison he made yesterday; Anzu’s injuries were similar to ones inflicted on me years ago, yet different all the same…” he started.

He noticed, from the corner of his which he had fixed resolutely on the logo of the café printed on the edge of the saucer on which his mug was brought, that Seto’s hand which had been lying flat on the surface of the table clenched at his words.

He forced himself to continue.

“But hers were caused by a stalker, a stranger. Mine were given to me by my lover back then.”

tbc…

*-*-*-*-*-*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone. First of all, so sorry for the awful cliffhanger this chapter :D Next week isn't too far, so don't worry xD 
> 
> I also want to repeat my thanks to everyone who has stuck around until now. All who fave’d, followed and commented on this little tale, thanks to each and every one of you. I treasure every single one of you *sends hearts and cookies*
> 
> I have had requests coming in to see the continuation of the side-stories of side-characters, the peachshipping, chaseshipping and polarshipping parts of the story…some even wanted to see more of Rafael. I am trying not to take any detours away from Prideshipping, which is the main pairing in this fic, plus…I am recently against POV changes. I am sticking to Yami’s perspective in the story and it’s difficult to follow everything from his alone.
> 
> I will be starting a little project, though…each of those pairings will get a small oneshot following their story. I just need to finish this first so I can focus on one thing at a time.
> 
> Enjoy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just dropping in to remind you take a look at the story's warnings and if any of those are triggering, please skip out on reading this one. Thank you <3

Seto's fingers were worriedly moving back and forth over the edge of the small glass that held half of his espresso. His other hand was still clenched tightly in a display of anxiety that Yami was witnessing for the first time since he met the brunet all those months ago.

That and the utter sadness in his blue eyes were an obvious indication of his distress as he mumbled, "I thought it would be something like that."

Yami shrugged, "You are intelligent enough to put two and two together. I know you already knew the answer to your question even before you asked it." He looked straight into the blue eyes, studying them carefully as he took another sip of his coffee. he held the gaze, lowering the cup and then asked, "If so, then were you just looking for a confirmation to the conclusion you made?"

Seto's fist unclenched and the fingers touching the glass withdrew. He crossed his fingers on the table and admitted, "Yes." Yami grinned; a little twist of the left corner of his mouth that he knew was filled with bitterness that the brunet saw very clearly and as a result, continued quickly, "I don't want just that, however."

Yami sighed. "I am aware of that," he said. He broke the brunet's gaze, unable to keep up any longer and repeated, almost to himself, "I am aware of that."

"I don't know what to say… I want to know everything, but I am not sure if you are willing to tell me," Seto said. Yami smiled painfully up at him once again and remained silent. He could see the million questions rushing one after the other in Seto's mind with how he uncrossed his fingers and clenched both his fists now, opening his mouth, then closing it once, sighing and then, finally, he decided to ask one of them. To Yami's surprise, he stuttered ever-so-slightly, "Did… Did you love him?"

Yami blinked at the unexpected question. He expected something else. He expected to be interrogated about other details; when did this happen, where. Perhaps getting asked why it happened, how he hid it, who else knew. Instead, he sat there looking blindly at the concerned expression in Seto's eyes, the way his brows furrowed in pain. Pain for him. The shock of the realization made him sit back in his armchair, still speechless.

"I'm sorry…" Seto quickly tried to say. "I shouldn't have asked that…"

Yami hastily shook his head. "No… no, no, no," he said, stopping the tirade about to come out of Seto's mouth. The brunet went silent, letting him explain, "I just didn't expect that to be your first question about the matter. But err… yes." He made sure his eyes were fixed once again on the corner of his saucer. "Yes, Seto…I loved him."

Silence once more hung over them except for the music coming from the speakers of the coffee shop. Yami sipped on his latte for a few moments and Seto finished his espresso by the time one of them could speak once again.

"Where did you meet?" Seto asked.

Yami smiled, "He was my senior. He held my hands during my first appendectomy, almost…just almost the same way you held them during my first pericardiocentesis. He was one year my senior. I met him during the matching day, where we decided our specialties." He paused, tipping the cup back to finish the last bit of coffee left in it. He slowly placed it back on its saucer, thoughtfully continuing while remembering the events he was telling the brunet as if they were happening right before his eyes. "Senior residents of some specialties attended match days so that once someone picked that specialty they would be taken immediately to start work. Surgery was one of those and he happened to be the one to grab me by the scruff of my neck and drag me to work, as the expression went."

He took the chance that the waiter had been passing by to take a pause. He asked for another cup of coffee, resting his eyes on Seto questioningly when the kid asked him if he wanted another espresso. The brunet shook his head dumbly. Yami smiled and looked back up at the kid who wondered if the brownies were not to his liking. He took a glance at the mostly-untouched chocolaty treat and understood immediately and he shook his head, reassuring him that it was delicious.

The smile was still on his lips after the young man walked away, promising to bring his coffee quickly. He could feel it getting drained from warmth, then intensity when Seto looked at him with pale, drawn features.

"Was I right, then, when I assumed that you were rejecting my advances because you didn't want to date a colleague?" he asked.

"I already told you, I had warnings that you were a playboy," Yami shrugged and said with a little laugh, grateful for a reason to lighten up the atmosphere just a little bit. Seto's face didn't break out into a smile like he expected him to so he sobered up and sighed softly, "That was part of it, to be honest. There's just too much of him in you, I won't lie to you."

Seto's face fell dramatically at those words and Yami immediately felt regretful he ever said them, but he knew he had to.

"We were sitting here just a few months ago and you asked me why I flipped out when you called me beautiful," he began once more. Seto nodded mutely, realization dawning on him. "It was a nickname. Even though we spoke in Arabic back in Egypt…sometimes in English also… but when he knew of my Japanese heritage, he asked me what the word translated to in Japanese and he called me that ever since."

"I'm sorry… I didn't know."

Seto looked genuinely so apologetic, Yami couldn't stand it.

"Hey…" he said, reaching out to place his hand on Seto's, squeezing it gently. He waited until the blue eyes settled onto his and he said, "Don't think you have to apologize for anything. Please, I just want you to know that this is not easy for me. And you apologizing for something that happened very long before we met, and something that is completely out of your hands that you couldn't have the slightest idea about, isn't making it any easier. Please… don't apologize."

"Alright, alright," Seto told him. he took a deep breath, staring at their hands for a second, before turning his hand in Yami's grasp so their fingers tangled together. Yami felt his racing heart calming ever so slightly at the gentle pressure and the small, encouraging smile that softly turned the corners of Seto's lips upwards. "Tell me how you two got together."

"It was a bit of cliché, to be honest. Something out of an old, overused romance movie," Yami told him. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, then continued, "I already had an idea that the first year and a half of my residency program was going to be hell. It was the same for everyone. A system that no one wants to break. The higher ups kicked back and relaxed and placed their responsibilities on those below them. And being a junior meant that you get to shoulder the weight of everyone above you. Everyone told me that it was especially bad for surgeons so I already formed an idea that I wasn't signing up for a joy-ride. I am not sure exactly if it really was as difficult as it was, or if he was heaping tasks on me more than usual… but apparently, the fact that I stoically accepted everything he dished out at me in silence caught his attention."

The café's interior lights were turned on at that moment and Yami took a second to glance around him and at the sky outside which was now a dull gray that was swiftly fading into blackness as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Time _did_ fly when he was with Seto, no matter how uncomfortable the topics they spoke of were.

"We got together when there was this…one time, I hadn't been home for over six days. Our department had broken its record with the surgery list that day. Ten surgeries continuous one after the other; the anesthesia team finished two shifts and the third was about to arrive when I lost my first patient," he was staring outside, finding the colors of the ocean under the residual rays of the sun and the dark rolls of clouds, very fascinating. "It was the eleventh patient on my table and I wasn't quick enough… wasn't focused enough," he paused. He shrugged. "I don't exactly know why that patient died, until now. I just know that he died in the PACU minutes after I took off my gloves. It must have been a bleeder that I did not repair, or a vein that I tore by mistake."

Seto was still holding his hand but Yami did not want to look up to meet the blue eyes fixed upon him. The soft lighting of the café and the warmth inside it gave it such a nostalgic feel, Yami felt his chest tightening and his throat closing up. It wasn't an entirely unwelcome sensation. It was almost a bittersweet sensation, the sense of security that the place brought him, coupled with the presence of someone listening with interest to what happened to him to shape him into what he was now, all the good and the bad, the proper and the broken. It was like a return home after a very long, very tiring trip. He ached, but he knew it would get better eventually.

"It was the first mistake in a time span of over nine months ever since the start of my residency," he quietly continued. "The assistant lecturer at that time, who was his senior back then, did not take that into consideration at all. Or the fact that I hadn't slept for far too long. He took his time to yell at me for my mistake, which I had no idea what it was, and proceeded to start describing exactly how many more shifts I will have to work, how many more clinic hours I will do, things of that sort. I was just standing there taking the yelling because…I was really tired, just lost my first patient and…let's face it, that always hurts a lot, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that it was bound to happen one time or another. It was then that he stepped in to my defense."

At that moment, their waiter arrived with Yami's coffee. Unconsciously, Yami drew his hand back, detangling their fingers when he felt the kid arrive. He smiled at him, pulling his drink close while Seto looked long and hard at him, then told the young man to get him a single shot of espresso once again, smiling apologetically and saying that he changed his mind about not ordering anything else.

Yami emptied his brown sugar into the cup, stirring it absentmindedly. "It was usually a big no-no to take the side of the weaker link in such matters. And he did more than just that. He stood there, exchanging yells with _a senior_ , in an obvious challenge of authority…" he laughed, the notion still surreal as he played out the memory in his mind. "We both ended up sharing the punishment, extra hours and extra shifts and all those ridiculous things. I didn't really care about anything at that time. I had gone into the lockers and took a shower and changed into fresh scrubs when I found him waiting for me outside, all smiles and sweet words and…well, he was apparently flirting."

He tapped the spoon three times on the rim of the cup after he finished stirring in his sugar and put it down, then lifted the cup to take a sip.

He was surprised when Seto reached out across the table and held his hand once more. He felt his ears reddening at the way he had pulled his hand back at the sign of company. He resolutely ignored that for now and spent extra effort not to glance around him, afraid someone might be watching them. Watching him receive this tiny little comfort. He knew that perhaps he really might deserve it and could use all the comfort he could get. But a huge part of him couldn't help recoiling at the weakness he was showing. The huge part of his soul he was stripping naked.

"Egypt is not at all accepting of homosexual relations of any kind. It took us over two more months to confirm that we meant the same thing… _wanted_ the same thing. We started…dating, for lack of a better word, about another month after that…" he forced himself to continue. He could feel Seto's thumb rubbing the back of his hand gently and he tried not to cringe at the rough texture of it compared to the brunet's. He smiled shakily and looked up, making himself meet the blue eyes as he ended his speech with, "It wasn't dates, per se… but it was more like… little outings in the hospital's cafeteria, a jacket lent to me during cold days, perhaps a bottle of juice at an unexpected time when his blood sugar ran too low, me running to fetch lab results to get him to finish his case presentation faster. Things like that."

Seto frowned, "So that's it? You never went beyond that?"

Yami shook his head, "Of course not… by that time, I had been promoted to mid-senior resident. I had _two entire days_ off each week." He grinned, almost to himself, adding what he knew Seto wouldn't like to hear, "We slept together the first time I was away from the hospital for more than a day."

He was right. A flash of something dark crossed the blue eyes and he chuckled softly, allowing the waiter who chose that moment to arrive with Seto's coffee to place the glass in front of the brunet, before speaking once again.

"You didn't think I was a virgin, did you?" he asked, sipping his own coffee languidly.

"Considering how uptight you are, I wouldn't consider it a surprise," Seto shrugged and Yami giggled slightly.

"Hardly… I am not prudish or ignorant in such matters. To be honest, I will have him to thank for that," he admitted. "Our relationship… I don't exactly know what it was. Maybe that was why everything went to hell eventually. For me, it was my first serious relationship. It was such a relief to find someone who wanted more than a quickie in bed like most of the people who swing that way in Egypt do. I wanted long-term… just like any other relationship that was considered…normal, by the standards usually set for such matters. It was with him that I had my first fumbling kiss, first awkward sex where penetration failed…the first time when it _didn't_ fail and the first time it actually felt good," he smiled a little to himself, a fond look seeping into his eyes against his will.

"If the memory of him makes you look so affectionate, where did it all go wrong?" Seto asked, an angry little seethe in his voice which he tried masking but Yami was way too perceptive to miss.

He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, Seto… I hold no affection for him anymore except for the memories of the beginnings which are always too sweet. Do not tell me you do not look back on your first time in bed with someone, the first kiss and the nervousness associated with it," he smiled up at him.

Seto shrugged in reply, averting his eyes to stare out of the window to hide the jealousy in them. Yami, out of politeness, did not tease him about it. In other situations he might have done that, but he knew that now this was way too serious to be joking about such matters.

He kept silent, sipping on his coffee and deciding that his stomach settled a bit for another bite of the brownie. The moment he placed it in his mouth, however, he regretted his decision, its taste turning to ash on his tongue and his stomach, previously grumbling in protest at the lack of food, now feeling awfully full, causing a nauseated sensation to rise at the back of his throat. He placed the fork back down and decided to just drink some more of his latte, hoping that the feeling would subside eventually.

"How long did you two stay together?" Seto asked him suddenly, obviously once again ready to hear out what he had to say.

"Everything was fine between us for exactly six months after we got together," Yami said, knowing exactly what Seto was asking him and seeing no point in wanting further explanation to it. "As you once told me, I don't exactly know when things began going downhill… when I say six months, I mean approximately, because as you said, I too couldn't tell what went wrong and when, or if it had all been an act."

He paused, knowing that he needed to if he really was going to go all the way and tell Seto everything. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and looking at the window. The sky had darkened almost completely by now and the windows no longer showed the outside of the café only, but started reflecting the interior of it. He stared at his reflection, feeling almost detached from what was happening and recalling the memories one by one, also as if they belonged to someone else that wasn't him.

"It was, using your expression, a toxic relationship. It started very subtly… and unfortunately, it started at work," he swallowed, closing his eyes for a few moments. He reopened them, turning his eyes to his hand which was still held lightly in Seto's on the tabletop. "Scoffs were made at decisions that I took inside and outside the OR. He would barge into conversations with my juniors, questioning and belittling information I discussed with them, asking me to cite my sources and making ridiculous claims that if I didn't know which exact page I was referring from, then my information was inaccurate."

"That's ridiculous, no one can do that," Seto protested.

Yami nodded, "I know that." He paused a second, correcting, "I know that _now_. Back then, I thought I must be doing something wrong. I was trying my hardest not to anger him, because it seemed that suddenly, everything I did, everything I said caused a temper tantrum or caused him to lash out at me verbally in front of everyone and anyone. It was gradually getting worse and at first I never noticed anything wrong, then I woke up one day and realized what he was doing."

Unconsciously, his hands clenched into fists. Seto's hand which had been holding his retreated just a little then reached out slightly as if to hold his hand again, before Seto thought it was best to let him go for the moment. Yami was grateful for that. He sat back in his seat. He could feel himself shrinking on himself, his back hunching lightly and his feet rising to the tips of his toes while he sat so that his knees rose slightly towards his chest. It was mere self control that prevented him from curling up into fetal position. Self control and pride.

He swallowed and forced himself to continue, "It really was a bit of a cliché now that I think about it. It started when I realized, as I just said, what he was doing and told him off when he did it again. He backhanded me while I was telling him that he should stop what he was doing. Split the inside of my lip and I needed two stitches to stop the bleeding, as well as the corny excuse of 'I fell' to avoid unwanted questions."

The words were rolling off his tongue with ease. It really helped that he was feeling this detached. He held on to the sensation of indifference, knowing that the only way to go through this to the very end was to have a complete sense of objectivity and objectivity only regarding this subject.

"He apologized, I am sure you can imagine. Bought me a new pair of luxury scrubs with my name embroidered on it. Pampered me for days after that. He promised he would never do it again and everything was alright for about two or three weeks when he did it again. This time it was because I explored an abdomen without his okay but with the assistant lecturer's. And this time, it wasn't impulsive as a backhand due to loss of control on his temper. This time it his hand looped my hair around his fingers and a fist to the side of my head while he held it in place and then driving it straight into the mirror of the locker-rooms." Unconsciously, his hand rose to his hairline, to the very, very faint white line that he knew was there which bled on that day all those years ago. He grinned bitterly, realizing what he was doing and forcing his hand to fall back to his lap, adding, "Thankfully the locker rooms were empty. He left me there and one of the nurses found me piled up by the mirror and I could use the excuse that I got dizzy and fell face first into the mirror, breaking it and bruising the side of my face."

"And no one suspected _anything_?" Seto blurted out, an incredulous, horrified look on his features.

Yami shook his head, "You must keep in mind that no one knew we were together, Seto. Abuse is something that goes unreported. Women who are abused by their spouses are shunned when they speak of that abuse, the community there is like that. Imagine a case of abuse in a homosexual relationship? No one could wrap their heads around the possibility that we were together and if they did they wouldn't be searching for signs of abuse, rather for ways to murder one or both of us. That is the level of homophobia, intolerance and victim-blaming there."

"But Yugi knows, doesn't he?" Seto prompted.

Yami nodded, clutching at his cup once again and taking a sip, swallowing almost convulsively. "Yes…but at the exact time, he still hadn't moved out of my parents' house. He didn't find out except almost six more months later."

Seto swore under his breath. "Shit, Yami…you stayed that long?"

"No, Seto…I stayed even longer…" Yami sighed, rubbing a hand over his face for a moment, then explained, "I did not realize then that I should have left many months ago. In my head, it was all my fault. And besides… he always apologized and every time I told myself it would be the last time, just like he promised. Things were good after each… _incident_. He was nice, almost like his old self when we first started dating." He shook his head, berating himself inwardly at his own stupidity. "I was very stupid. I was holding on to hope that a part of me knew wasn't there. Yugi knew of what happened when he once beat me up so bad, I had two cracked ribs and the area behind my ear was bleeding from a cut from being thrown back and I fell, hitting the metal footboard of our bed. I had a black eye and my teeth split open the inside of my lip once again and my wrist was sprained. I was a wreck. I had dragged myself over to my grandfather's place and told Yugi everything."

By the time he had said all that, his felt his throat closing up. He was very grateful that he managed to get it all out before his voice cracked, or he started coughing or anything equally mortifying. He swallowed convulsively, willing his heart rate to slow down and his face to remain neutral. He forced himself to stay in the state of detachment he was mostly isolating himself into. It was almost over now. He had gotten almost everything out. If he stayed indifferent then he would manage to finish this without embarrassing himself. It was why he was trying to avoid looking at Seto at all costs. He knew that if he met those blue eyes he would weaken.

Eyes fixed once more on the edge of his cup's saucer, he continued, "Yugi is wise… Yugi is a lot wiser than I ever was his age. And even now, he has a lot more wisdom on him than me. Despite being in eighth grade, he knew what was happening was wrong. He told me I was being abused. He tried to tell me to leave. I was stupid," he repeated. He shook his head, "I realize now that I did a lot more damage back then when I refused his help than just to myself. As you must have heard last night, he still blames himself for my stupidity and lack of judgment at that time."

"Yami…you are still being too hard on yourself," Seto quietly interrupted him.

Yami had no choice but to look up at him to meet his eyes. To his irritation, this time and unlike the last time they sat in exactly the same place, he found an expression on Seto's features that he hated to see anyone staring at him with.

Pity.

It was pity, intermingled with disbelief and the question that was asking itself non-verbally, 'how did he not see how stupid he had been?'

It was too much for him to take, to be honest. And he had two choices; either look away and cower from the look or …

"I don't want your goddamn pity, Kaiba," he lashed out, feeling his eyes flaring up with anger.

He decided to go with the second option, the blow his pride took once he realized that Seto pitied him, felt sorry for him, not allowing him to show any further weakness. The only other reaction on the table was to get angry. And he was so angry, all of a sudden. He felt stupid. He sat there…sharing his most sacred of secrets, shared how stupid he had been, how he had been used and how he had laid there and taken it without resistance. He knew that pity was an appropriate response to his story. He knew that that was what he was going to get. And yet he sat there and blabbed like an idiot.

"You think I pity you?" Seto quietly spoke, breaking through the red haze of fury.

"What the hell is that look you're giving me if it's not pity, then?" he bit back, not bothering to hold back on the acidic tone he knew he adopted whenever he was backed into a corner.

Seto sighed and shook his head, "I told you you're being too hard on yourself. The assumption you made that I pity you just confirms it, Yami. You have been a victim of abuse. And years later, even though you are telling me that now you know better, here you are, taking it in the wrong way."

"I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me," Yami spat, for now refusing to concede and let the words sink in.

Seto was adamant, however, "Again, you think I feel sorry for you, you think I pity you. I don't. You are filtering whatever you are seeing on my face into something negative." He paused, letting his words sink in, encouraged when Yami refused to answer him because deep down he knew Seto was right. "You keep calling yourself unwise and stupid out loud and I am very sure you're having a field day, massacring your ego by calling yourself that, right now while we sit here, those names in your head."

Yami felt his ears reddening and he looked away, still refusing to acknowledge the words or the fact that Seto could read him like an open book.

"You were wrong when you said you thought it was your fault back then, Yami…" Seto was softly saying. Yami closed his eyes, shaking his head softly and avoiding at all costs looking at his companion once again, especially as he added, "Somehow you _still_ think it is your fault."

He sighed, raising the cup to his lips and drinking. He had nothing to say to that and he wasn't going to be petty or childish and try to argue his way out of it. He had nothing to say, so he kept silent. He was going to allow himself just a small, just a tiny bit of attitude, pettiness and childishness. He decided that if Seto wanted to continue the conversation, then he would have to take the next step and ask him to. Until then, he was going to sulk while being silent.

Seto was apparently letting him have a few moments to calm himself down before asking anything else. He too stayed silent, sipping soundlessly on his espresso. Yami itched to ask him how his heart rate was doing, seeing as this was the third shot in under two hours.

He was still contemplating if it would ruin his pettiness if he asked the brunet that, when Seto decided to end his struggle, let him win –as juvenile as the expression sounded—and spoke once more after setting down his empty glass.

"What was his name…?"

Yami glanced at him briefly, seeing the spark of interest after the question was asked.

"His name was Bakura," he answered. The interest on Seto's face did not disappear and he sighed, deciding to let go of his juvenile behavior, adding the details he knew Seto wanted. "He was on the tall side… as you could guess, tall guys are just my type," he smiled lightly, a small quirk of the corner of his mouth. Seto answered him with a little grin and he continued, "He had brown eyes and…strangely enough, white hair, which was shoulder length, always messy. He always put a clip in it so he could fit it under the surgery cap."

"It seems we both have a thing for people with weird hair," Seto remarked.

He laughed, "His hair was white, Seto. Not _pink_!"

"Semantics."

Yami's smile was easier at the brunet's effort to make the atmosphere lighter. It worked and the dark mood that had settled over him was lifted, leaving behind only the general unease at the subject being discussed.

"From the way you reacted when I said my breakup with Zigfried had been bloody, I assume yours with Bakura had been bloody as well, only literally," Seto said, once again breaking the silence.

Yami smiled, "Well…yes and no." Seto raised an eyebrow questioningly so he explained, "He _had_ beaten me to a pulp a week before it all ended. I made a call with a patient. He wanted to open her up after minor trauma because she was pulseless. He said she might be bleeding internally and I said she might have Takayasu's arteritis and that the lack of pulse was because she was suffering from a flare up of the disease, causing her arteries to narrow and her pulse to disappear."

Seto whistled, "Yami, Takayasu's arteritis is extremely rare."

He nodded, "I know. And it was almost nonexistent in Egypt. It is more common in Southeast Asia and we were farthest away from the area. But I took careful history from her relatives. He didn't bother doing that and immediately assumed it was trauma that caused her symptoms. He was already promoted to an assistant lecturer at that time and I was the senior resident on call. I contested his decision and he yelled at me in front of my juniors, making sure to be as humiliating as he could, but I defended my opinion, until the consultant on call that day passed by and asked what the ruckus was about."

"Did he take your side?" Seto asked.

Yami shook his head, "Not really… but he did ask me what my rationale was, and when I told him the girl's past history with hypertensive spells and similar attacks, he ordered another CT to be done, this time with a dye. And I turned out to be correct and narrow areas were seen in her aorta and renal arteries."

"He wasn't too happy to be proven wrong, I assume?"

"Not at all," Yami shook his head and giggled a little. "What made things worse at that time was that… in front of all the junior residents, the consultant scolded him and asked him to, as he worded it at that time, 'stop being a butcher and actually bother to take a history'. Needless to say, bloody doesn't even come close to describing the state I ended up after that shift."

Seto was cringing. Apparently it wasn't easy to listen to this for him.

"I packed my things and left the apartment we had been sharing at that time. He didn't say anything because that was how usually things went. He'd get violent, I'd pack and leave for a few days, he'd call me up to say sorry and that he wanted to meet, I'd give in and move back… like that."

He stopped for a moment, almost about to make a comment on how much of an idiot he was, then deciding to just let it go and stop insulting himself over this. It took conscious effort to do that and his silence stretched for a while, then Seto urged him on, saying, "So what was different this time?"

"Yugi patched me up and I did my best to hide the bruises and the cuts and the way I looked like a walking mummy. But there was so much I can do about a black eye or a split lip. I had to take a few days off from work." He took a deep breath, let it out, then drained the rest of his coffee. He set down the cup, then sat back, shaking his head slightly and resuming, "I was starting to feel claustrophobic at home, so I decided to go out to a coffee shop where I was a regular. I made friends with its owners and the baristas working there. I had gone out to get a cup of coffee and thought that my usual excuse of 'I fell' would work because really, no one was going to suspect this was a case of abuse or look further than that. I was wrong to assume those people were so shallow."

"They guessed what happened?" Seto asked, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

Yami nodded. "I denied it at first. They wouldn't have any of it. I was afraid they were going to beat the shit out of me for suspecting I was gay, but one of them told me very clearly that that wasn't going to happen. They closed down the shop and they made coffee, as one by one they talked me into walking away and how they were going to help me do it."

He grinned, chuckling lightly to himself.

"I always had been a sheltered child… but they knew the nooks and crannies of the Egyptian society. They planned everything perfectly, told me to be ready for his call. They showed me how to record what he had to say to me. They showed me how to use an application on my phone for that. They said to answer the call after I've set everything up and record what he says to me no matter how trivial or normal it may sound."

Seto looked confused. "Why?"

Yami's grin widened. Apparently Seto was as 'sheltered' as he was.

"One of them was an amateur disc jockey highly interested in underground music that was very trendy back in those days. He took the recordings and selected parts of it, putting it together one after another so that there was no doubt to whoever was listening that Bakura and I were together. He also added a slight background noise to my own voice during those recordings, making it impossible to recognize or trace."

Realization was beginning to dawn on Seto's features and Yami nodded.

"Yes… then I told him to meet me at the coffee shop during day time, the rush hour of the place. We sat down, very civilized. Very calm. And he asked me what made me bring him out here. I played him the recording on my phone. All of it. he sat there listening to it to the very end. I then told him that I was leaving him because he was just too violent and I needed to get away and that if he refused or didn't want to take a hint, I was going to send the recording anonymously to the hospital's official email and to the Dean of the faculty, naming him as the star of those recordings and ending his career forever."

Seto's mouth hung open for a few seconds before he smiled and sat back, raising his eyebrows, "Devious plan…" he admitted.

Yami nodded, "It was tight. Very well thought out. Even if he denied it, a scandal would follow him wherever he went and he would never shake it off. He knew that he had been backed into a corner; he always was very smart." He paused, grinning just a bit before resuming, "And what really made the whole trap even tighter was that he couldn't control his anger enough at that moment and straight out attacked me in broad daylight, in front of the café's customers and baristas."

A cringe flickered over Seto's features. "Didn't take it well, I suppose?"

Yami shook his head, "Not at all. I think if he could, he would have seriously did a lot of damage that would have ended his career anyway. And mine, for that matter. The kids at the coffee shop hauled him off me before I was permanently disfigured, however. Held him down and tried convincing me to call the police, but I told them to let him go after making sure to tell him that I never wanted to see him again."

"But what did you do at work?" Seto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"At that time, I only had my thesis discussion left to get my master's… I resigned right after I passed," Yami explained. A little smile forced its way once again onto his lips, "It was the end of the world, for my parents. They had no idea what happened, of course, and the only thing that reached them was that I was leaving a university hospital post, which was the epitome of prestige for them. Something to show off. I calmly told them it was none of their business and started working my way through other degrees, until I received two more from a reputable university in France, one from Luxembourg and two diplomas from the UK. I got my doctorates from abroad as well. The longest I spent on any one of my degrees was the time I spent during that first master degree in Egypt, because I had to abide by unnecessary bureaucracies and delays."

"Not to mention not having to look over your shoulder for a fist coming your way for being brilliant," Seto added.

Yami nodded and pointed a finger at him, "That too…"

And with that he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while closing his eyes and relaxing in his seat. There it was, all of it out and his soul bare and open before the brunet. It was the most anyone other than his brother and his abusive ex-boyfriend ever knew about him. It felt exhilarating to share this about himself and although there was a small, unsure part of him screaming at him that he was going to regret it, he calmed the rest of himself down by recalling how Seto was trustworthy regarding all the other matters he shared with him. he felt cleansed, liberated at no longer hiding anything. He grinned inwardly when he could hear the start of the comforting pattering of rain on the windows beside them, feeling that it was somewhat befitting of the situation, the rainfall cleansing the surroundings just as the outpour of information he just shared cleansed him of their heavy burden.

tbc…


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the update is a day earlier than usual. I am on shift for twenty-four hours tomorrow, so if I don't update today, you would have to wait until late Wednesday evening for the update. And after the dose of angst in the past few chapters, if you're still around, then you deserve this chapter.
> 
> Which brings us to the warnings: lemon ahead towards the second half of the chapter. :P
> 
> Enjoy.

There was a general gloom settling over them.

Yami was acutely aware of it. He supposed that it should be expected. Not just that, embraced as well. People didn't speak of matters like what they just discussed and shared laughs and smiles after. There was a certain darkness expected to settle over them after it.

Seto had closed his eyes, turning his head towards the window to stare at the start of what promised to be one hell of a storm, little drops of water pattering against the glass. Yami joined him in staring out of the window, the rain calming him completely and the promise of stormy weather bringing him the usual joy he felt at such occurrences, unhindered by the glumness surrounding them. He had been told he was going to get tired of the rain and winters once he got used to them, but he really doubted that was going to happen.

He was still contemplating all the ways he liked the rain when Seto once more spoke.

Quiet, soft… full of regret and sadness that Yami did not want to hear. He always seemed to inspire such misery in the brunet, it made him cringe internally.

"I am so sorry all of this happened, Yami…" he was saying. Yami stared at him, contemplating why he needed to apologize at all. He was about to open his mouth to ask that, but Seto wasn't done. "I am so sorry that your first relationship had been so shitty. There's no wonder you have trust issues."

"I don't have trust issues," Yami protested. Seto raised an eyebrow at him and he scowled back, "Really… I was with other people after that!"

"Really?" Seto suspiciously asked.

Yami nodded. He then paused ever-so-slightly and started laughing.

"What?!" Seto asked, frowning, a worried expression in his eyes as he clearly thought Yami lost his mind. It made Yami laugh a bit more. "Seriously, are you alright?"

"You know how everyone is calling you a playboy in Domino?" Yami asked between giggles.

"Yeah?" Seto replied, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "What has that got to do with anything?"

Yami shook his head, a mischievous little grin quirking the left side of his lips as he said, "They will probably never guess that the more deserving of this title is me rather than you." Seto's eyebrows shot up, his blue eyes widening and Yami just laughed a bit at him. "You say you've slept with three people in your whole life… let's just say that I beat that number quite easily."

"You're joking, right?" Seto asked, incredulous.

The shock made his eyes look a lot more pretty than they were and Yami could feel his gaze turn fond at the beautiful sight before him.

"No, I'm not," he said, leaning forward to try and get closer and propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his crossed fingers. "None of them were very serious relationships. One night stands during my travels… once or twice, I met a beautiful woman or a handsome man at a club, exchanged numbers and we had… on-again, off-again sort of relationships, just to have an excuse to get in bed. The longest relationship I had was when I was in Luxembourg. Six months…" Seto was shaking his head in disbelief and he chuckled lightly at the shock shining clear in the blue eyes. His laughter faded gradually, a smile remaining on his lips while his eyes went distant very slightly while recalling, "His name was Cimon and he was a redhead with the softest hair you can imagine. He had a light beard and almost transparent eyes that he kept behind a huge pair of round glasses with silver rims."

Seto scowled heavily and it brought him out of his contemplative rant.

He narrowed his eyes, a naughty little smile spreading on his features as he added, "He was your height. He gave the best blowjobs and was very flexible in bed. I think that was why I kept him."

He made sure to say the last bit with a sly little smile on his face.

"You're a slut, do you know that?" Seto asked, unable to keep himself from making that comment, laughing and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Proudly aware of it."

"And you hid it so well, too, I thought you were a damn virgin! Hell… _I_ am a virgin, compared to you!"

"Basically," Yami agreed cheerfully, raising the fork loaded with a bit of the now-cool brownies to his mouth.

"How many babies did you father?"

Yami almost choked with laughter that took him by surprise at the question. "Ever heard of condoms?" he asked, coughing slightly and trying very carefully to prevent the chocolate from entering his airway since he laughed at a very inopportune moment. "I may be a bit of a slut, but I am a _careful_ slut!" he added in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

Seto laughed and Yami couldn't help but stare at the glorious sight. He let his eyes wander over that beloved neck, the very light-pink lips, almost indiscernible from the milky skin and the very tiny, downright endearing laughter lines next to the blue eyes, scrunched lightly with the amusement of their owner. He wanted to keep the memory of Seto laughing like this, the look of him, the sound…the feeling he gave him sitting there and laughing like that; he wanted it etched forever in his mind because he knew. He knew that this was one of those gorgeous sights that didn't exist everywhere in this ugly world they lived in. It was beautiful and he never ever wanted to get enough of it. Didn't think he ever could.

He didn't pull himself out of his appreciative trance fast enough because Seto had stopped laughing, drained all of his espresso, stared out of the window and made a comment that Yami didn't catch, which caused him to notice that he was still staring at him, lost in thought and wonder. A few seconds later, he registered that Seto had asked him something and that he was now being stared at as well. he blinked and smiled, sitting back in his seat, pleasantly asking, "Sorry, did you say something?"

Seto was silent for a few moments, just staring at him with the smile disappearing gradually off his features. And with it, the warmth Yami felt spreading through him slowly dissipated. He knew Seto was going back to the serious aspect of this conversation and he found his heart racing ever-so-slightly, anticipating the next question.

It wasn't a question, though. It was a quiet little statement.

"One-night stands don't count, Yami…"

Yami took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. He once again shifted his eyes to the storm gathering outside, watching the thin sheen of moisture that gathered on the interior of the glass of the café from the difference in temperature. It left beautiful rounded designs at the corners, the lights from outside shining on it like little stars, while the constant downpour of rain on the glass left little jagged lines, like little waves, on the outside.

"I know… I know they don't," he admitted softly.

Silence stayed with them for a long, long while. Yami gestured to their waiter and smiled when he arrived, apologizing for not finishing his brownie and asking him to have it packed so he can take it home. The young man asked if everything was alright and Yami nodded at him, lying and explaining that he had a big lunch and overestimated how much he could eat. Satisfied, the young man took their empty cups and the uneaten dessert and left.

"You are full of surprises, do you know that?" Seto asked him, seemingly out of the blue.

"Why is that?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You lied…so smoothly just now. You didn't even blink," Seto observed. Yami shrugged, about to explain it was a little white lie but Seto shook his head, "No…and not just that. You refused every one of my advances, yet here you are telling me that you've had countless encounters with men and women. You say you don't know what I want with you and yet here…you've told me everything about you, willingly, to try and make this work… I must say I am very confused and I don't know what to make of this."

Yami looked hard at him, "What do you _want_ to make of this, Seto?"

"Does it really matter what I want in this situation, Yami?" Seto held his gaze fearlessly. Yami stared back into the blue eyes with the same boldness with his own crimson ones, needing more than that for explanation and ready to face what Seto was throwing at him. "I don't know what to make of this," he repeated, almost to himself.

Yami leaned forward in his seat. Once more, he crossed his fingers together in front of him and kept his eyes fixed on Seto. "I did not lie when I said that you make me want to take that leap of faith you spoke of, Seto." The blue eyes shifted to stare at a faraway spot on the other side of the café. Yami pressed on, "I broke up with Cimon over this. He pried. He asked questions just the same way you did. And I had known him for six months, shared a bed with him countless times already. He thought I didn't trust him." he paused. He smiled and reached out, seeking Seto's hand much like the brunet had sought his just half an hour or so ago. The blue eyes once more fixed on him and he rubbed the long, slender fingers gently, adding, "And he was right. I didn't trust him. I do, however, trust you."

"Do you really?"

"I would not have told you what I just did…I would not have shared with you the story behind the scar you will inevitably see on my arm, if I didn't trust you," Yami told him. "I guess a part of me instinctually trusted you without me consciously realizing it. Last time we sat here together, I had absolutely no idea why I was telling you something that only few other people who weren't family knew about me…"

The slender fingers he was rubbing wrapped around his own, giving them a gentle little squeeze. "I'm glad you told me…"

He grinned lightly at the quiet admission. "I waited for you to out me to people at the hospital, you know…" he confessed. The shock in Seto's eyes made his gaze waver. He looked at their joined hands, "When you didn't, I guess it was when I realized that I really can count on you…"

"I would never do that Yami…whatever you tell me in confidence, I will never betray."

"I know that," he sighed out.

The young waiter arrived with the brown paper bag containing the rest of his dessert. Yami smiled shakily up at him, making conscious effort not to pull his hand back. The kid made no outward reaction to their intertwined fingers, asking if they needed anything else and Yami told him they wanted the check. Promising to bring it right away, he left Yami to look back at Seto.

"I swear I am not giving you mixed signals on purpose…" he quietly told him.

"I didn't say that."

"I know you didn't…but it is what I am doing and I do not know what to do about it," Yami admitted. His other hand rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I have pushed you away at every chance I got… yet here I am admitting that I have slept with more people than anyone in Domino can imagine… I was just trying to be honest with you."

"Yami, I don't care. What's in the past is in the past," Seto told him dismissively. "I really don't care. I genuinely am sorry that the only serious relationship you had was with an asshole who didn't realize what a gem he had within his hands."

Compulsively, Yami let go of Seto's hand at the praise. His ears reddened and he felt himself getting flustered. It didn't help in any way that Seto did not allow him to withdraw. The moment Yami's hand left his, he reached forward, once more holding on to it tightly. Yami looked up at him.

"I do not care what shit people in your life have been telling you. I do not care that some screwed, stuck-up community fed you some bull about your skills at work getting measured by your rank in school. I do not care that that asshole got jealous of you outshining him. I do not care that no one you've met until now told you this, but I will no longer let you think that you are lacking, Yami. You aren't. And no matter how many times I will have to say it and prove it to you…it doesn't matter. I will make sure you believe it."

"Seto…" Yami breathed, cutting through the convinced tirade Seto had launched himself into.

"Let me," Seto whispered back, the determined look still in the blue eyes. His eyebrows were set in determination, lips pursed and a slight flush on his marble-like skin. There was no stopping him, Yami realized.

Against his will, a smile spread over his lips and he could feel his eyes softening. "I already am, you idiot."

Seto sat back at that, "Good… I hope you understand that, you can be so stupid sometimes."

The waiter arrived with their check at that moment. Yami took it, chuckling lightly to himself while he did so. Seto had moved forward to take a look at it and Yami casually slapped his hand away. He opened his wallet and placed a handful of bills in the leather check holder, leaving a generous tip for the kid who they sent back and forth from their table so many times.

"I feel so weird about you getting the check," Seto told him as they got up, wrapping his scarf once more around his neck to prepare for the chill outside.

"Why?" Yami asked, raising an eyebrow, pocketing his wallet and his keys.

"I am usually the one paying," Seto explained.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Kisara and Shizuka weren't working when we dated… and Zigfried… well, I don't know, we just didn't usually care about such matters…"

"Yeah…billionaire issues and stuff," Yami grunted at him. "You little bourgeoisie shit."

Seto laughed, opening the door of the café for him. They stood under the cover of the little porch, silently watching the downpour with twin contemplative looks. Yami looked longingly at his car, which was just on the other side of the road, but the rain was so thick that he knew that even one second out there would get them soaked to the bone. And the road wouldn't take just a second to cross. They were definitely going to get thoroughly drenched in rain water.

"How will we do this?" Seto asked.

Yami turned to him, "You can't be serious."

Seto grinned, "I very much am… unless you want to wait until I call my limo and the driver gets here."

Yami opened his mouth to protest. He thought about calling the kid from inside to get them an umbrella. He quickly discarded the idea with the wind blowing so severely, for sure it would get ruined. He closed his mouth once again.

"My car. I will unlock it with the remote from here. Run like hell," he said in a business like tone, a determined look on his features and he dug out his car keys out of his pocket once more.

"Why can't we take _my_ car!" Seto argued and Yami could feel the slight change in him as muscles he knew lurked beneath his clothes tightened ever-so-slightly to prepare for takeoff.

Yami pressed the unlock button on his car's remote, sighing, "Because I will never forgive myself for getting the leather of a goddamn Cadillac wet! So shut up and get inside my cheap car!"

Seto laughed and without a single hint of hesitation, rushed into the heavy showers. Yami stared at him in shock for a second, then pocketed his keys so they won't get wet and ran out after him, involuntarily letting out a shrill gasp at the cold water which, within what felt like a millisecond, soaked through all layers of his clothing and plastered his hair to his forehead. He sprinted over the other side of the road, laughing shrilly when a car screeched to a halt to avoid running him over; thankfully the guy –who yelled from behind the closed window of the car at him—had been driving slowly and Yami laughed, throwing an insincere apology at him.

He finally made it to the driver's side of the car. Seto had already opened the passenger's seat door and was inside. He didn't even realize that both of them had been laughing like maniacs until they were in the safety and dryness of the inside of his car. Softly, their laughter died down to chuckles, which slowly faded into twin goofy beams that they sent at each other and inevitably started laughing once again, trying to drip on the floor of the car and instead of getting any water on the gears or the dashboard or anything important.

"You're a child, Kaiba, do you know that?" Yami shook the wet strands of his hair out of his eyes, digging the keys that got wet anyway out of his pocket.

He revved the engine to life as Seto replied, "Lies…"

"Only children run in the rain," Yami said, putting the car into the proper gear and turning the wheel to drive out, away from the coffee shop.

"I'd like to tell you that you are no fun, but you and, recently, I know that that is not true," Seto mildly told him, a hand running through the wet strands of his hair, pushing them out of his face and combing all of it back to reveal his forehead. Yami glanced at him, taking his eyes a few seconds too long off the road to look at the new way in which Seto looked like a work of the Gods. There was no way this was a normal human. With his hair pulled back, away from his face, it was a new look that Yami hadn't seen on him. He looked breathtaking, the little drops hanging off his skin.

He wanted to lick each and every one of them off.

He looked ahead at the road, taking a right turn.

"Where are we going?" Seto asked, still oblivious to the effect that the simple act of combing his hair back had on Yami and continuing it innocently. He was also unwrapping the blue scarf and pulling it away.

Yami purposely stared ahead of him hiding a grin, replying smoothly, "My place. We'll catch a cold if we stay in these drenched clothes."

"I don't have a change of clothes," Seto pointed out.

Yami bit the inside of his lip a little, taking a long glance at him, pretending to look thoughtful before slickly shaking the protest off, saying, "I have your scrubs from when you came over that night. You can wear them until these dry out."

Seto took the bait, apparently. Satisfied with his work so far, Yami turned his attention to the short distance to his house and within just three minutes he parked the car under the covered parking area next to the house. He got out of the car and waited for Seto to do the same. He locked the car with the remote, grateful when he found it working and that the water didn't ruin it.

He opened the front door, getting inside and holding it open until Seto got in as well.

"I'm dripping all over your floor!" Seto complained.

"Well _I'm_ dripping all over _my_ floor. Don't worry about it, I'll mop it up later," Yami said, tugging on the sleeve of Seto's pullover, pulling him towards the master bedroom.

"We passed my bathroom," Seto jokingly pointed out.

Yami smiled. "We're going into my bathroom today," he said, not offering any other explanation other than that. He pointed to his room's door, "Just get in, I'll bring towels."

He paused next to the towel cupboard, opening it and taking his time getting two extra towels from the shelf. He delayed on purpose, reddening slightly when he recalled the last time he did this, how he flushed at imagining the towel contrasting with Seto's skin and bringing out his eye color. Things were different this time. Things were very different. Now he felt so much lighter. He had gotten a huge load off his chest. Never, with any other person he was together with before, did he tell them so much. He never felt this liberated, this open. It was heady; the fact that Seto knew it all. He knew everything…and he still wanted him.

Things were very different now.

Some things were still the same though. He still picked the blue set this time too along with one of the beige ones for himself. He was flushed this time as well, only he didn't try to get rid of it at all, or the interest in his nether regions.

He straightened, heading to his bedroom, finding the door ajar just like last time, a trail of water leading into the bathroom. He quietly made his way inside, leaning on the door's frame, watching the scene before him.

Just like last time, too…Seto stood shirtless before him. The blue scarf and his pullover were piled together in a wet mess on the ground in the corner. The sight was just as glorious as it had been last time, too. Just like he remembered, the smooth, endless plains of marble like skin stretched faultlessly over those ridiculously defined muscles.

Unlike last time, however, he allowed his gaze to linger on the perfect ivory on display before him. A dark part of him asked if he really wanted to go through with this? With Seto looking like Michelangelo's David, only alive and warm and so much more perfect and desirable than anything Yami ever set eyes on.

The warm smile was disappearing from his face, the light of mischief dimming, his resolve and courage to do this faltering ever-so-slightly at the niggling thought he had and was now growing like an ugly black miasma that was slowly controlling most of his thoughts on the matter.

He stared off into the far corner of the bathroom, his eyes leaving the magnificent sight before him as he wondered how Seto would react to the scar on his arm. How would he feel about the little scars littering his forehead and the back of his neck? No…how would he react to the fact that obviously he really was no match for the super-models he apparently used to date before him. Against his will, that little dark voice was slowly making him realize that this was a stupid idea.

He wasn't ready yet.

He should just leave now while he still could. Was he chickening out of this? Yes… and he had enough self-respect to admit that he wasn't going to go through with the plan he had when he brought Seto here.

He didn't realize Seto had moved closer until the brunet stood right in front of him. His eyes flickered as he forced himself to focus, forcing a smile as he looked up and pushing away from the door. He had to try and act normal. He had to try and do something to avoid Seto noticing the change in his mood. But before he could do more, Seto had grabbed one of the beige towels, unfolded it and placed it on Yami's head, fingers softly moving to massage his hair, transferring the wetness onto the terrycloth fabric. Yami blinked at the small smile Seto was giving him. He felt himself turning red again, silently handing the brunet his towels, while raising his other hand to take the job of drying his own hair.

He couldn't tear his eyes off Seto, who apparently had no problem continuing staring back at him as he too dried his hair. Silence hung over them for a very long time, except for the rasping sounds of the towels as they dried off and, from a far off distance, the rumble of the first thunder for the night.

"I wish I knew what you're thinking…" Seto finally broke it with that softly-spoken comment. Yami hummed questioningly, raising an eyebrow. He didn't understand. Seto took two steps towards him so that now he could feel the furnace-like heat the taller man emitted all around him. He blinked again as Seto leaned just a little bit closer, adding in the same soft voice, "Your eyes get so bright…and then that head of yours tells you something and the light just…fades. I wish I could just…" he paused. Yami swallowed convulsively, his heart skipping a beat and his entire senses on edge so much, that he could clearly hear the patter of rain outside very clearly. By now, Seto was so close, Yami could see each of the dark brown eyelashes, some of them stuck together with the wetness that still clung to them. There was a drop of water about to fall off one of the astray strands of chocolate-brown hair and Yami reached up to touch it, just as Seto breathed out, "make it stop."

Yami sucked in a shaky breath, letting it out gently, just as Seto placed his hand under his chin, tilting his head up so he could kiss him. Yami didn't know if this was planned or by accident, but the tender lips moving delicately against his effectively did exactly what Seto said he wanted to do. His raging thoughts shut down and the only thing he could think of was the synchrony with which their lips danced together. This time…this time, it was different. This time it wasn't stolen in front of an elevator, or drenched in the suffocating tendrils of uncertainty and claustrophobia. It wasn't meant to calm an angry tirade either.

This time it was inquisitive. Yami allowed Seto to pry open his lips, tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the sheer physicality of the touch. His tongue ran over the pink lips he fantasized over for months, meeting Seto's in a gentle battle of dominance, until the brunet's hand slid underneath the pullover Yami was wearing, cold hands making contact with his wet, warm skin, making him gasp and break away.

Confused suddenly at the way Seto was proving his train of thought for what seemed like two or three minutes wrong with this sudden, unexpected move, he was left once again blinking stupidly at what just happened. The hand he had raised to destroy the drop of water dangling from Seto's hair was now falling slightly, hovering uncertainly a few centimeters in front of his lips.

"What made you change your mind?" Seto asked him, hands still at the hem of his pullover.

"W…What?" Yami asked, still confused.

Seto tugged him closer, "You brought us here for a reason, Yami. I figured that out the moment you started driving here. Yet you stood there just a minute ago looking like you changed your mind…what made you change your mind?" Seto repeated, his voice soothingly level and Yami allowed him to pull him closer.

"I…" he started, not knowing what to say. His clever plan didn't go unnoticed, it was obvious and perhaps he wasn't giving Seto's observation skills enough credit. He sighed. "Never mind," he whispered, moving to step away.

Seto immediately tightened his hold on him. The hands on his pullover's hem moved towards his back and he found himself enveloped by impossibly broad shoulders and he found himself unable to breathe abruptly, the ivory skin he daydreamed of so close all of a sudden and his hands burned, wanting to touch and only his iron-like self control was preventing him from doing so. He froze.

"No…" Seto said. Yami cocked his head upwards to stare up at him. "You know that voice you heard in your head…the one that has been speaking to you for like…two or three minutes?" Yami blinked, wondering if he was that easy to read or if Seto really was that special. Maybe it was a bit of both. He nodded mutely in answer. "Tell it to shut the hell up… and answer me. What do _you_ want right now, Yami? And before you answer, make sure to ask it to kindly shut its trap for a bit."

Yami wanted to giggle at that but didn't, knowing that this was serious. And that he needed to do exactly what Seto was telling him to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying his hardest to push down the dark, depressing thoughts that dominated his mind for the moment. He had nothing to lose now. He had already revealed a lot more important things to Seto than a scar or what he thought was an unattractive body…

And so, when he opened his eyes again, he didn't answer verbally. Instead, he raised his hands, wrapping them around Seto's neck and pulling him closer for another kiss. Only this time, he truly unleashed everything he felt…was feeling for months now for the brunet into that single contact. Firmly and boldly, he pressed his lips against Seto's, forcing them open with his own tongue and plundering the moist cavern lying behind. He was starved…thirsty and there was only one way for him to be sated and he was determined to sate himself fully, not holding back and not letting any thoughts stop him.

He allowed his hands to wander. The self control was disappearing and he let his hands roam. He left one hand on the long neck he adored so much that he didn't want to abandon even for a few seconds, resting his thumb on the pulsing carotid that he could feel racing beneath his fingertips and he let his other hand slide down along the impossible length of the brunet's arm.

By then, Seto had pulled himself out of the initial surprise of his sudden action. He was kissing him back, battling him step by step for the control he lost over the act. And once Yami's traveling hand reached his wrist, he decided to pull back from their kiss, tugging on the hem of Yami's top and pulling it up to remove it.

Yami resolutely pushed away any uncertainties. He let the wet cloth drop along with the towel that had been on his hair still. He didn't have a lot of confidence right now but he sure as hell could pretend he had plenty. Without a moment's pause, he tugged on Seto's wrist, leading them out of the bathroom and into the warm bedroom.

His low confidence was rising and improving by the second, especially as Seto turned him around once they stood in the space between the bed and the bathroom's door, snaking a hand onto his neck and swooping down for another kiss. He was hyperaware of the brunet's change in body language and expression and at the slightest sign that he was disappointed, he planned on withdrawing. Seeing or feeling nothing of that sort, he could easily fall into the familiar, much welcome mood.

Sex was something he enjoyed. Immensely. Even rushed or with someone he had no attachment to except the physicality of the act, it was good. And he had held back as much as he could where Seto was concerned, preventing himself from showing attraction, from succumbing to the magnet-like pull the brunet had on him. he had tried schooling himself not to touch, to behave in order to keep up the professionalism of their relationship. He had been holding back with every ounce of willpower he had.

But now? now there was no need to hold back.

Yami's hands reached for the button and zipper on Seto's jeans, undoing them with expert motions and a lot of muscle memory. It had been quite a while since the last time he did this, but he sure could do it in one swift, smooth motion.

His hands rose up once more, leaving the jeans unbuttoned. His hands dragged over the white flesh on display before him. He bent his head to one side, letting Seto, who had released his lips, trail a hot path down his neck, while he gently allowed his hands to roam the broad, chiseled back. He kept it up for a few moments, taking his time—there was no need to rush— to explore with the tips of his fingers trailing down planes of beautifully-shaped muscles arching and bending quite artistically over the bones of Seto's frame. His fingers dug softly into the hard muscles beneath his fingers, however, as he moaned at the maddening sensation of Seto sucking on that exact just-right spot beneath his ear, sending tingles of delicious heat all over his body.

He hoped he hadn't left bruises on the delicate white skin as he deemed his hands warm enough, leaving the exploratory trek on Seto's back and allowing them to wander downwards, underneath the hem of the jeans and the underwear Seto still had hanging on his hips. With just the right pushes and tugs, he slipped both of them off, letting gravity do the rest of the work for him while he focused on pushing one of his still clothed legs between Seto's, feeling before even seeing the erection that had been struggling to break free ever since they kissed. He was pleased to hear the hitch in the brunet's breathing and decided he wanted to hear more than just that, so he placed his lips on the nearest part of Seto he could reach at his height; his clavicle, and sucked gently at it.

That inspired a quick gasp and Yami smiled mischievously to himself, allowing Seto to hurriedly undo his jeans as well, stepping back and helping him by pushing them off his own hips and letting them fall to the ground and stepping out of them.

He was just about to turn his attention back to the brunet when he found himself pushed back, away from the wet pile of clothes and towards the bed, where he was gently nudged back. He laid back on the bed, softly smiling when Seto wasted no time to spread his long, delicious body along his own. The heat of their naked forms together was intoxicating and Yami couldn't do anything except wrap himself around Seto, flipping them so he was on top and attaching himself to his delectable lips once again.

Seto wasn't offering any resistance, moving smoothly with his own moves, the lack of awkward bumps or misplaced motions making it all seem more like a dance than simple motions. It wasn't like anything Yami ever experienced before and he couldn't get enough.

He slipped his fingers into Seto's, dragging the brunet's hands upwards to press them against the fluffy pillows he was propped so lusciously against, his damp brown hair contrasting with the baby-blue sheets of his bed. He pressed himself against him, letting him know exactly how hard he was for him, especially as he nudged Seto's head to the side slightly, finally… _finally_ exposing his neck to his eyes and his mouth and one of his hands which left Seto's tangled in one of his own and trailed down wrap delicately around the glorious structure before him.

Details. Details fascinated him beyond what could be considered normal. He followed the insertion of the muscle from the spot beneath Seto's ear, licking and nibbling on it gently, his hand unhurriedly stroking the pulse point fluttering beneath his fingers on the opposite side. He reveled in the vibrations he felt that the moan of approval bubbling out of Seto's chest made. Encouraged, he trailed downwards attentively, paying attention to dramatic slope of the muscle's main belly as it traveled down to the pair of perfect clavicles, making sure not to ignore the hollow dip between it and the brunet's Adam's apple which bobbed erotically under his lips as Seto swallowed back against the pleasant sensations he was receiving.

It was just so, so perfect, too… that every nook and cranny that Yami decided to nibble on or kiss or lick seemed to be hotwired to Seto's nether areas. While feasting his eyes on the glorious sight of Seto's beautiful features scrunching up in insane desire and listening to the lovely music of his groans, Yami could feel him getting impossibly harder and heavier and he smiled shamelessly, pulling back just a little to stare at this marvelous creature that landed in his bed after he made sure to leave a large hickey that looked better than any jewelry that could ever adorn any human's skin.

Slowly, the dark brown lashes parted, and half-hooded blue eyes stared up at him. Gently, he leaned forward, feeling his chest tighten unbearably and needing to let it out and not finding any other way to do so other than pressing a soft kiss to Seto's forehead. Slowly, Seto's fingers untangled themselves from his and rose up to touch his cheek. He pulled back, finding Seto smiling back at him. And a second later, the tenderness shining in that smile turned into mischief and without warning, he found their positions reversed with Seto straddling him and leaning over him.

"I hope you have plenty of lube and plenty of those condoms you love so much," he whispered hotly in his ear and Yami felt every hair on his body standing on end. "I am planning on taking you several times tonight… you've kept me waiting for too long and now it's time to pay the price." Yami leaned towards the left side of his large bed, opening the second drawer of his nightstand to reveal exactly what Seto asked for. He allowed the brunet to push him down on his front from where he had twisted to reach for the drawer, letting him nibble on the juncture between his neck and shoulder and letting out a shuddering breath at the sensation. "Good, there's quite a bit; you may need to restock once we're done, though," he muttered into his ear, the hot air making Yami's toes curl.

He couldn't resist the comeback, however. "Promises, promises, Kaiba… less talk, more action please!"

The evil little chuckle that came right next to his ear raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck. The long arm, finely muscled as if chiseled by an artist, reached for the drawer's contents. Yami wanted to turn around once Seto had grabbed hold of the lube and several packets of condoms, but the breath was knocked out of him when Seto tsk-ed lightly next his ear and pinned him down tightly by grabbing his arm and holding it tightly against the bed.

"Stay," came the command and he almost moaned at the guttural tone of voice that reverberated deep within him.

His resolve broke, however, when he felt Seto's lips at the back of his neck. Hot and moist, they worried the skin there. A shock of sensation rushed through him and he gasped with its intensity, his toes curling slightly. The warm lips didn't stop there. Downwards they traveled, trailing hot kisses all over his shoulder blades and his spine and he arched into the touch with a keening little groan that hitched in the back of his throat when Seto's hand snaked down beneath his body, wrapping around him and coaxing him into a dripping, writhing mess beneath him.

He was already so hard. He had been so ever since they kissed. And Seto's hand just knew how to play his body so well, that when he let go of him, to his mortification, he found himself groaning in complaint, his hips grinding against the sheets seeking release like some horny teenager.

"Shhhh…" it was another command. He couldn't do anything except obey. He had lost control of his body, it was completely Seto's and with the simple shush, his hips stilled even if he didn't want them to.

Seto didn't keep him waiting too long though. He could hear the very distinct sound of the bottle of Durex being opened, felt the powerful jerk Seto gave the bottle after turning it upside down and the sound of its contents being squeezed out. There was absolute stillness for a few moments, then one of Seto's arms snaked around his hips, powerfully pulling him up to his knees.

He moved with him, feeling his entire body flush with the heat of his arousal. A second later, he felt cold, slick fingers probing him and he forced himself to relax, knowing that the sooner he did so, the sooner he would feel Seto inside him and he wanted nothing more at the moment.

It had been a long while since he last did this. It always felt great, but right now…right now he just couldn't breathe, especially as Seto leaned closed to him again, latching his mouth onto the spot on the back of his neck that drove him wild just moments ago, his free hand rising to pin down his arm. He was so deliciously helpless in Seto's arms and he couldn't get enough of the sensation. Unguarded, a low moan of pleasure escaped him. Within seconds, however, the quiet sound turned into a gasp of shocked pleasure, as Seto's fingers curled downwards within him, brushing the soft hidden spot inside him that sent electric sensations rushing through his entire body and forced his hips to buck uncontrollably back against the sensations.

"Found it," came the triumphant little whisper and the hand holding his arm pinned once again traveled downwards to his aching, dripping member, stroking it in tandem with the brushing of Seto's fingers against his prostate.

"Oh God…" he gasped, grinding his hips in rhythm with Seto's motions. It felt so damn good! So good.

But it wasn't enough.

"Seto…please," he groaned out, looking over his shoulder. He met blue eyes that were no longer that color. The pupils were blown so wide, they were almost black now. they were heavy lidded with desire and Yami almost climaxed under the intensity of the gaze alone. The gorgeous arm was once again beside him, grabbing one of the condom packets and he could hear the crunching sound of the foil getting ripped open.

What seemed like ages later, Yami felt the familiar hands on his hips again, positioning him while something thick and warm settling against his entrance, giving him a second to relax before pushing in.

He clenched his eyes shut against the familiar burn, breathing out to try and chase it away as Seto slid into him surely and steadily. Not too fast, not too slow. Carefully yet assertively at the same time. By the time he was all the way in, Yami was breathless at the frankly overwhelming sensation. He could hear the echo of his loud, labored breathing reverberating in the room with the rainfall providing background music to their love making.

Seto was moving again, but this time he was leaning down so his broad chest was flush with his back. His head was spinning. The hot lips were at his ear once again, the slender hands reaching along his arm once again to cover his hand then clasp their fingers together. "Shhh…relax Yami. Breathe for me," he whispered in his ear.

He shuddered, trying to obey and using Seto's rising and falling chest as a guide to regulate his breathing.

Seto moved only when he was able to catch his breath again. He asked him if he was ready and Yami whimpered out a yes, after which Seto moved again.

He kept up the same approach, establishing a pace that wasn't brutal, yet wasn't exactly slow either. Yami bit his lip hard, his eyes sliding shut tightly against the stimulus, especially as Seto once again found that hidden spot beneath him, causing him to cry out as he hammered it with smooth, steady strokes that sent electric-like waves of pleasure all over his body.

Seto's arms wrapped around him, pulling him up with powerful arms. His hand settled, splayed out on his neck, his index finger reaching for his lower lip, releasing it from the punishing hold of his teeth. His eyes slid open and he could feel tears running down his face unbidden. Seto's other hand which was still tangled in his fingers brought their arms to rest around Yami's waist.

Never breaking the rhythm, Seto turned his head, tilting his own so he could place their lips together and kissed him. Yami moaned into his mouth, feeling instincts taking over. His body was no longer controlled by coherent thoughts. He surrendered to sensations, letting himself go and attuning himself to Seto's tempo.

They were both too desperate for one another. Soon, whatever synchrony between the movement of their hips together was lost. Yami found himself once again pinned torso down by Seto's firm hold as the brunet's hips ground down into his own with a now-punishing pace, all traces of gentleness gone. The lean, long fingers wrapped around him stroking in time with each downwards piston-like motion Seto made into him.

It was too much for him. The perfect angle Seto had that brought his prostate into direct contact with the head of his lover's member with every downward stroke, coupled with the hand on his own sex soon made heat pool unbearable in his pelvis and he clenched his eyes shut tightly against the feelings surging through him, climaxing with a loud shout, his fingers convulsively bunching in the sheets as he convulsed with the onslaught of delicious sensations.

Soon, he felt Seto freezing above him, a deep-throated growl leaving him as he drove into Yami's body powerfully once, twice, three times, before releasing a shuddering breath and collapsing on top of him.

Their gasping breaths mingled together in the silence of the room, drowning out any other sounds. A minute later, they were calmer, their bodies now separated after Seto withdrew from within him, removing the used condom, tying it securely and depositing it in the trash bin beside the bed. Yami could hear the sound of the rain again. Thunder was crashing in the distance just as he turned slightly beneath Seto, reaching up to place his hand on the side of his neck and lean in for a kiss.

In the semi darkness of the room that was lit only by the light coming from the open bathroom door, they lay tangled together, kissing softly. Yami closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of safety, satiety and sheer bliss rushing through him in a combination that he didn't think he ever felt before this very moment.

It seemed like an eternity later when Seto broke the silence.

"That…was lovely," he said.

Yami chuckled and opened his eyes.

"I didn't want it to end," he lazily said.

"Whoever said we're having one go tonight?" Seto asked with a confused frown, propping himself on his elbow.

Yami smirked, "Are you ready to go again?"

Seto raised an eyebrow, "I told you'd I'd put a dent in your condom supply. I very much intend to do just that."

And he did.

Yami sat on the edge of the bed at three in the morning, looking at his sleeping partner. He was tangled in the sheets in a way that couldn't be described as anything except artistic. He was lying on his stomach, his right arm under his head and the pillow beneath it and the left curled next to him and the left leg was bent slightly; what remained of the spooning position they had been asleep in before Yami got up. The covers were almost falling off his body, tangling in his legs and pooling at his hips, his entire stunning back bare to Yami's eyes, from the back of his neck to the top of his left buttock. The rest of it was hidden from view by the blankets. In the faint lights flooding the room from the window and the occasional flash of lightening, he could see the elaborate trail of hickeys that he had placed artistically on the long column of Seto's neck. It made him chuckle inwardly because Seto had tried marking him in the same manner, but Yami knew very well that his neck didn't have similar markings. No matter how much past lovers had tried to place hickeys on him, they never succeeded, for some reason.

He had been asleep as well, exhausted from the quite-frankly record number of orgasms he had during the night. They had been at it for over four hours straight and Seto's stamina outdid his own significantly. Apparently holding his breath under water for so long almost every day did wonders to his endurance, Yami thought. But he didn't do so badly himself, overall. The fact that he kept up for as long as Seto wanted until both of them didn't have it in them to do anything other than fall into exhausted sleep tangled in each other… yes, he did alright. He smiled affectionately, shaking his head and quietly nibbling on the apple he had gotten up, put some cotton pants on, and trudged to the kitchen to cut up so he could eat. He hadn't eaten anything proper since lunch yesterday and his hunger was making itself known.

He got up quietly, pulling the blankets carefully to cover Seto's back properly and then walked towards the window. He stood next to it, pulling back the curtain slightly to watch the rain that was still beating down on the glass and the lightening breaking through the sky every now and then. He ate his apple while letting his thoughts wander, contemplating the wisdom of entering a relationship and wondering why he wasn't planning on turning this into a one-night stand or one of those 'let's get together to get off some steam' relationships. Why was Seto so special? There must be something that he still did not catch up to about this entire situation and he was stressing himself thinking of what it might be. Something that was missing with everyone else. Something that only Seto was offering him from the list of possible candidates who could have had a serious relationship with him.

It was pathetic how much of a mess Bakura left him. The state of mistrust, the inability to read the emotions people were offering him. It made him a bit sorry for himself. He was even more frustrated because he just didn't even know how to teach himself to trust again, to be able to identify those who meant him well and those who just wanted something from him and then would leave him. He didn't think asking Seto would solve it, either. And he just couldn't live with the questions running through his mind; what more was Seto offering him?

He stood there, deciding to wait until he found an answer. He finished his apple and set the plate on the little table next to the window and continued looking at the stormy sky until Seto's voice broke his contemplative reverie.

"Yami…?" it was groggy and full of sleep. He wasn't fully awake yet, Yami could see as he turned towards the bed. "You 'kay?"

Yami smiled and headed towards the bed. "Yes, do not worry. Just got up to eat something."

The bleary blue eyes nor the sleepiness hid any of the evilness in the smirk Seto was trying to give him, "I'm surprised you could get up at all…much less walk around."

Yami laughed lightly, getting in bed again. "I'm sturdier than I look," he teased, snaking one hand underneath Seto's head, sliding his body into the curve of Seto's own, wrapping his other arm around the broad shoulders.

"Guess I have to do better next time then," Seto comment, pulling him closer and propping his head against the pillow and burying his face into Yami's neck.

Yami couldn't help the slight stiffening of his body at those words. Next time…

He forced himself to relax, knowing that Seto, for sure, could feel his taut frame. He reprimanded himself mentally, once again taking Seto's advice and slapping that horrible voice inside him that kept feeding him dark thoughts.

A few seconds later… he felt Seto pressing his lips against the spot under his ear and a second later, he stiffened again lightly when he realized that Seto was kissing the scar that stretched from behind his ear to the very top of his neck. Seto didn't relent though and the hand that was on the small of his back pulling him close moved up to his shoulder, pulling him closer tenderly. Slowly, with little circled drawn on his back, he relaxed again, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Softly and with a gentle whisper in his ear as if afraid any other living being might hear it other than him, Seto told him, "I love you."

And with a burst of epiphany, he realized that this was the answer to what he stood by the window contemplating. This was what Seto was offering that no one else was. He realized how silly he had been. Worrying about a couple of scars… something so vague, something so insignificant wasn't going to chase Seto away. This was what he subconsciously realized but his mind didn't catch up to. And this was exactly what he needed to hear to finally calm his racing heart and lull sleep back into his eyes.

He let Seto's warmth, scent and arms surround him and he drifted off.

tbc…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fckin finally, you two!


	14. Chapter 14

Yami woke up the next day the same way he did the day before it. To cold, crisp winter light filtering through semi-open curtains and to an empty coolness beside him. He blinked in confusion for a second, reaching for the cold spot beside him and even though it was a familiar action, a familiar sensation, in the post-sleep grogginess, he knew that something was missing.

A few milliseconds later and he realized all the ways today morning was different from yesterday.

He could hear someone moving outside, tinkering around with his coffee machine. There was a brief moment of panic until all of yesterday's memories came tumbling to the forefront of his mind. He blinked a few times, turning from where he was lying half on his back so he could lie on his side and stare at the spot beside him for a few more seconds, flushing furiously when he saw the condom wrappers scattered around. They had gotten rid of the used condoms but forgot all about their wrappers. There was one that was still balanced precariously on the edge of the bed next to the pillow, glinting lightly in the weak glow and he knew that there were more on the floor next to the bed.

He closed his eyes, curling up in bed tighter around himself, pulling his knees up slightly and pulling the covers closer to him. There was a satisfying ache in his nether regions and he could feel the strained adductors on the insides of his thighs burning lightly and he knew he was going to feel the twinge for a while when he walked. It had been years since he last felt this sated and he smiled just a little.

He opened his eyes when he felt Seto walking into the room. He stayed silent, watching as the brunet set the tray he was carrying, with two cups of coffee as well as a plate with two apples and two tangerines on it.

Yami feasted his eyes on the sight Seto presented. Apparently, he had dug out the scrubs' bottoms, putting them on and wandering around Yami's house wearing them, his perfect chest, abs, back and arms all on display. He did not even try to hide the way he was openly staring appreciatively eyeing the smooth, fluent moves of muscles under planes over planes of alabaster-like skin, tinged with a delightful rosy-pink at the joints. It made him want to place his lips on each and every spot of it and worship it for all eternity.

"Well…hello there…" Seto spoke when he turned and saw his eyes open and fixed upon him. Yami lazily dragged his eyes up, appreciatively eyeing the marks he left on the gloriously beautiful neck, to meet blue ones, their owner greeting, "Good morning."

"It's not _just_ good… great from where I am looking," Yami replied. He was aware of the cheesiness of the line and was about to giggle and apologize for it when he noticed with a rush of pleasure in the pit of his stomach and some vague area behind his sternum that Seto's cheeks flushed lightly and his hair fell into his eyes when he dropped his head slightly at the compliment that turned out to be not so tacky after all.

"C'mon…I brought you fruit for breakfast…" Seto tried evading the embarrassment by changing the subject.

Yami pushed himself upright. "You make a very good housewife, Kaiba. I might be tempted to keep you after all."

"Hardly… I don't know how to use a knife…"

"And you call yourself a surgeon?" Yami admonished, leaning back against the pillows, turning sideways slightly to continue watching Seto as he sipped at his coffee and dragged the tray closer. Yami could see that he brought a knife with the fruits and realization dawned on him. "You really couldn't cut the fruit?" he asked incredulously.

Seto shrugged.

"You aristocratic little brat," Yami said, chuckling lightly while reaching for an apple and the knife. He crossed his legs, letting the covers pool down to his hips while he propped his elbows on his bent knees, expertly cutting up the fruit into quarters. Seto leaned back on his free arm, the other one raising the cup to his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed. Yami could feel his eyes on him watching his every move. He smiled and looked up, pushing two of the pieces of apple at him, asking, "What?"

"What made you think I wouldn't be interested in you physically?"

He paused for a second.

It was his turn to shrug. He tried to be smooth, unfazed. He shouldn't be fazed, theoretically. They were adults, they were having a conversation. There was no need to feel uneasy. But he knew that it wasn't _really_ unease that made his stomach flutter and his heart race. It was the fact that Seto so easily asked the question. Fearlessly, not tiptoeing around him with useless small-talk. The part of him that puzzled over why Seto was so different from the others came to another realization. Seto didn't coddle him. Didn't treat him like a delicate little flower. If he wanted to ask something, he did. If he needed answers, he sought them out. He wanted to kiss him, he did it regardless of the time and place.

He was the type Yami best loved to deal with. Straightforward. No beating around the bushes.

He owed him to be straightforward as well.

"In case you haven't noticed or looked into a mirror recently, you look like you've just been photoshopped; touched up, airbrushed and ready to be slapped in the face of commoners like me on the cover of a fashion magazine," he explained, placing the tip of the fruit into his mouth and nibbling on it. He chewed while holding Seto's appreciative gaze –which he didn't understand, to be very honest with himself—then added once he swallowed, looking down at his sheets for a while, "And here I am. Plain old me, with bags under my weird-colored eyes and tired, boring skin with scars all over it and looking years older than my actual age. Not to mention that I might grow a second head before trying to have abs like yours…"

He dissolved into nervous giggles, once again raising the apple to his lips while looking up to see Seto's reaction to his words.

He froze.

The look in the blue eyes couldn't be described as anything other than predator-like. He kept the fruit at his lips while trying not to move much; perhaps as a protective mechanism, trying not to attract more attention from the feral-looking creature suddenly seated across him, especially with the blood he felt rushing down towards his nether areas. The heat of the blue eyes was physical. It made his skin tingle and frankly turned him on. He didn't think he had it in him anymore at this age to get hard at a single glance.

Seto was stretching, placing the mug on the nightstand. But instead of sitting back where he was, he leaned over, closer to him. Yami blinked, unable to move suddenly for entirely different reasons as Seto's hand covered his which held his fruit-breakfast and lowered it slightly.

And with the rays of the morning drifting in through the curtains, Seto kissed him, the sun shining off his brown hair, giving it a halo-like appearance. Yami smiled into the soft lips, his other hand rising to touch the soft feather-like, shining brown hair gently. He tasted coffee on Seto's lips. Bitter, strong…addictive.

His eyes closed and he forgot whatever he had been saying, even forgot the slice of apple in his hand and let himself surrender to the now-familiar lips massaging his own. There was no duel for dominance between their tongues, there was no push or probe to open their mouths…no, it was just the soft movement of their mouths together in this most intimate of acts. Comforting, soothing…

Yami couldn't get enough.

It seemed like an eternity, until Seto moved back slightly, breaking their contact. Yami could feel the pink lips spreading in a smile as he placed a little kiss on their corner.

He opened his eyes, feasting on the beautiful sight Seto made with his form breaking the sun's rays. He smiled back as the brunet moved to his previous position after picking up his coffee once more.

"What a load of nonsense, Yami…" he remarked. Yami took a few seconds to comprehend what he had been talking about. As realization dawned on him, Seto was speaking once again, "Comparing us is hardly a logical thing to do. And do not call yourself plain. You are very interesting."

He wasn't trying to use more words than necessary. He wasn't trying to impress or force an idea. He didn't feel the need, obviously.

"Perhaps…" Yami shrugged, remembering his breakfast and raising it to nibble on it once again, this time taking a proper bite and trying to diffuse the subject. He didn't like apples when they turned yellow.

"No… not perhaps," Seto shook his head. Yami sighed. He was sure Seto was about to launch into a tirade of how inner beauty was important or something of that sort since his attempt to convince him with simple statements wouldn't work. He didn't get time to say anything, however when Seto spoke again. "I know what you're thinking. You think I will make some stupid comment about beauty lying on the inside or whatever shit underdeveloped, sick people use to subtly insult others."

Once again, the fact that Seto could read him as easily as an open book made Yami forget about the apple again. He gaped open mouthed at Seto.

"I find you exciting. There's nothing about you that is plain. Not your so-called boring skin, not your scars. Every detail, every wrinkle or dark spot that you might think somehow should be used as a reason to make you think so badly of yourself actually makes you very, very interesting," Seto told him. "Is _this_ what was going to ruin last night for us?"

There was a hint of exasperation in the blue eyes.

Yami couldn't deny it. He flushed lightly, cursing the fact that he was topless at the moment, the ease with which Seto detected his blush patterns increasing even more with more of his skin exposed to the blue eyes. He busied himself with placing the rest of his apple in his mouth especially as he heard the groan Seto let out at his non-verbal yes he provided for his question.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?"

Yami rolled his eyes.

"You can roll your pretty red eyes all day at me, Motou," Seto admonished. Yami made a face at him, reaching for the second slice of apple and keeping silent about the way Seto sounded like Yugi all of a sudden. He wondered if the two had been in contact at all. It was difficult to think that they weren't. "Stop being an ass to yourself, Yami."

"Do you realize that you've started using my expressions lately?" Yami grinned up at him. He hoped Seto took the bait and changed the subject. Or even if he didn't take the bait… he just hoped they stopped discussing this topic. It made him uncomfortable and he just didn't know how to respond.

To his relief, Seto was enough of a gentleman to stare hard at him for a few moments, then looking away towards his coffee. there was a few seconds of silence, then he said, "Yes… Jou's made sure to giggle like an idiot about it for a while."

"You two are close friends," Yami observed, popping the rest of his second slice of apple into his mouth and reaching for a tangerine, easily digging into the skin and starting to peel it. He was amused to see Seto watching him with admiration, as if he was performing a delicate procedure not something basic like peeling a citrus fruit.

"We haven't always been friends," Seto told him.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, quickly removing the fuzzy white pith surrounding the red-orange-colored tangerine.

Seto's admiration at his citrus-peeling skills was rising by the second. Yami wanted to laugh at him, but tried hard not to. Especially as he was more interested in what the brunet was saying next.

"I used to make fun of him. Called him a mutt whenever I saw him…" Seto shrugged, finally taking his eyes off Yami's fingers peeling the rest of their breakfast.

"Why?"

"Because I felt like it," Seto explained simply and Yami laughed, handing him half of the tangerine.

"Kaiba, that's not an excuse," Yami pointed out.

"Of course it is…" Seto told him, taking one of the segments of the fruit and eating it. "It was funny, too. Until of course, I graduated and he became my boss. That was a bit problematic, to be very honest with you." Yami chuckled. "I was lucky, though…he wasn't planning on giving me hell for it."

"He's a really nice guy, Jou…" Yami agreed. He didn't think their blond superior was the type to harass people just because he felt like it.

"It's Mai…" Seto commented. Yami looked at him questioningly so he explained, "He wasn't always nice, Jou. Mai is why he is so nice now. He was actually somewhat of a bully in high school, from what I've heard of him. I don't know if that is one of Domino's rumors but there is a general consensus that he wasn't this pleasant before. She came along and he changed. They've been together for over ten years now. They are Domino's power couple, so to speak."

Yami smiled slightly, picking up his coffee and having a sip from it. His smile widened at the perfectly smooth, almost cream-like foam and the sugar added exactly as he liked. Either Yugi had betrayed how many sugars he liked with his latte to Seto and Rafael day before yesterday, or Seto really was very attentive. It was a perfect cup of coffee.

"He's been complaining about heading the department… he said he didn't know it would make him so busy," Seto continued, trying to be subtle about the fact that he had been waiting to make sure Yami liked the coffee. Yami courteously let it go without commenting. "He wanted to quit. Said he needed to be there for Mai more, but she insisted he took the position and I told him I'd cover his shifts if he needed to take days off. I am glad he the intra-department elections are coming up soon. He will have considerably less duties then and he can be there more for Mai's appointments and such."

Yami stared questioningly at him. "I wanted to ask about that…" he hesitantly said. Seto looked up at him so he added, "He keeps taking days off for Mai's physical therapy…you said she was at the hospital for a while. I don't want to pry if it's private, but I want to know. Is she alright?"

Seto remained silent for a few moments.

"She's alright…now," he said. He took another sip from his coffee. "Right before she and Jou got married about five or six years ago…just a month before the wedding, she got into a car accident," Yami raised an eyebrow again. Seto clucked his tongue softly, cringing slightly, "A very serious accident. She was run over while crossing the street by a speeding car. She broke her ribs, cracked three of her lumbar vertebrae and fractured her pelvis and the neck of her femur. Not to mention the internal damage. She lost one of her kidneys and the broken femur ruined her uterus beyond repair."

Yami's hand had risen to cover his mouth, which fell open in shock at what Seto was saying.

"Yes… yes, it was a really huge thing. Not the 'she broke her leg' kind of accident. No, she arrested several times in the ER, on the table and in the ICU which she spent…a week or something in. It was a mess… a complete mess. If she had died…" he shook his head, pausing for a moment and sighing, "If she had died, Jou would have followed. I am not being sentimental or cheesy. I mean it. He was heartbroken, worried; he never slept and when he did it was outside the ICU, on the floor or outside her OR. He didn't eat, he didn't speak to anyone. We thought he was going to die before her."

"Shit, I didn't think it was something that serious," Yami said.

"It was very serious," Seto told him, draining the rest of his coffee and placing his mug on the nightstand. "Thankfully, she started getting better. She is a fighter, Mai. She loves challenges and when everyone doubted she would make it, I think she did it just to prove us wrong."

"What happened then?"

"As I said…she got better. Slowly…but she got better. Needless to say, the wedding was postponed."

"Naturally," Yami dryly commented.

He leaned back against the pillows, propping his back against the headboard and waiting for Seto to continue talking. The brunet shifted, grabbing the tray and placing it on the nightstand as well.

"It took her two weeks to wake up completely and have a proper conversation," he was saying as he lay down, placing his head in Yami's lap. Immediately, Yami's hand snaked into his hair, savoring the sensation of the soft locks slipping through his fingers. "First thing she told him when she was able to form proper sentences and hold a coherent conversation was that she wanted to break up with him."

"What?" Yami blankly asked.

"Yes. She was very rude and horrible about it also. Jou left her room looking his worst since the whole thing started. I told him to go shower and sleep. Eat something…and eventually he would figure out what to do. I think he was too tired to do anything else. He did just that and came back the next day with her favorite flowers and flat out refused to leave her."

"What did she have to say about it?"

Seto shrugged. "I am not aware of the exact conversation they had. It seemed that Jou knew that she was pushing him away because she thought she would bring him down or something equally idiotic. He was having none of it. He stuck beside her until she got better. In a way, Jou was proving everyone wrong as well. The issue with the internal damage she received would have driven anyone away. Jou wanted kids. So did she. But after that accident, it was impossible. Not to mention that the therapy months that followed, the frustration of everything related to it would have been enough to tear any two people apart. But they pulled through. They got married a year and a half after the original date they set for the wedding. They didn't earn the title of Domino's power couple out of nothing."

Yami leaned his head back against the headboard, staring out at the cold light coming in from the window. He had a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I didn't think it was something like that at all. I thought it was something more recent, less serious."

"She still has physical therapy sessions. Biweekly. For the total-hip replacement she had and her weak vertebrae. Not to mention all the other regular checkups that Jou religiously takes her to." Seto was saying.

Yami looked back down at him, watching attentively the tiny details on the handsome features. The sharp nose, the defined jaw line and cheekbones, the way his lashes and eyebrows were just a few shades darker than the soft chocolate-like brown hair. He allowed his hand to subtly slide over Seto's forehead, pushing back the bangs that usually covered it and enjoying the new, unfamiliar sight that he had seen yesterday after being in the rain and now couldn't get enough of.

"I'm glad he is getting more time off soon," Seto was saying and Yami's eyes were drawn to his lips.

"When are these 'elections' being held?" he asked.

"After the annual trauma surgery conference in Tokyo a month from now," Seto told him, looking up and meeting his eyes. Yami blinked, then smiled. "We'll go together."

"You assume too much, Dr. Kaiba," Yami teased. He leaned down, dropping a quick peck onto Seto's soft lips. "Perhaps I don't want to go with you."

"We'll go together," Seto repeated with a smile. "Maybe share a room?"

"Nah…I'd rather take a hotel room by myself. See if I can pick up some pretty face from the hotel or a nearby club… have a bit of fun," he teased.

At his words, Seto got up. Yami watched the way he easily lifted himself, his abdominals contracting powerfully, easily…smoothly pulling his upper body off the bed where he was lying down. He looked delectable and Yami wanted nothing more than to latch his mouth onto the skin-covered hills and planes of muscles, worshipping each rise and fall of it thoroughly. He was distracted from watching the splendid sight by Seto's fingers hooking beneath his mouth, tilting his head up. He allowed the brunet to then take the cup of coffee, still half-finished, and place it next to his empty one on the nightstand. He kept his head tilted up and smiled mischievously at the fire burning in the blue orbs.

"You can forget all about that now, Yami… I am not letting anyone else have you," Seto told him in low tones, his hand rising to rest on the headboard beside Yami's head, holding his weight up.

Yami gave it a fleeting glance, noting with mild surprise how the little details of the nooks and crannies of it pleased him to no end, before looking up again at Seto, his smile widening and betraying nothing of the thrilled racing of his heart at the way he was trapped deliciously the way he was. He raised the hand on the other side of Seto's, tracing his finger up the length of his arm lightly. He could see the blue in Seto's eyes turning into thin rims as his pupils widened with pleasure. The smirk was still on his face as his finger traveled up the beloved neck, lingering on the hickey he left there yesterday, before settling beneath Seto's chin much like he did with him just seconds ago.

"Don't worry," he whispered. He leaned closer, letting out a small breath, enjoying the way it hit Seto's soft lips and the rush of air returned back to his own. "I don't really want anyone else. Now enough talk. We have two more days off and I plan to spend them well."

* * *

It came as no surprise when Seto simply fell back into the pattern of annoying him at work. Yami didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. He didn't think work could ever be the same if Seto stopped flirting at the most inappropriate times, or bickering with Rafael with him as the main subject of conflict. Most of the time he ignored him. Sometimes, he could retaliate with a cheeky reply. Other times, he would respond with admonishment. Rarely, though, he needed to repeat the scolding he gave the brunet and Rafael in the OR like before. He couldn't find it within him to be mad at Seto no matter how ridiculous he got.

They had returned to work, fell into a pattern. When Seto found out he was shouldering Honda's shifts until Ryuji recovered, he told him he would help him. between both of them and the rest of the residents, each had only an extra eight hours every three days. They took their shifts, finished the surgery lists in record time, clinic hours were bravely faced. Within a week after the fiasco with Anzu's attacker, Honda returned to work and their hours were back to normal.

Ryuji returned another week after that. He was all smiles and cheeky cheer. Normal, in every sense, Yami was grateful to see. He complimented his and Seto's work, thanking them for a nearly invisible scar that would require just a few months' use of a gold-containing anti-scarring cream or one or two dermabrasion sessions if he wanted to get rid of it. Honda had muttered something under his breath while Ryuji spoke, to which the dark-haired ER resident blushed, stammered a little and hurried away to continue his shift. Yami and Seto had both politely not commented on it, each continuing their work as if nothing happened.

Yugi had brought Anzu with him when he and Yami went out for lunch on one of his days off. Yami had been watching from the inside of the restaurant when the two arrived holding hands. Before entering, they let go of each other and Yami pretended to be looking at his phone. If his brother wasn't going to tell him about his and Anzu's relationship, then he wouldn't ask. Yugi was smitten, Yami noted, not missing the way his brother looked at the young woman beside him. for good reason, too. Anzu was smart, courteous. She looked better, happier with a glimmer in her blue eyes and a rosy tint to her cheeks. She was intriguing in her own way. Maybe it was the ballerina in her, but she had a certain warmth around her that Yami wasn't about to miss. It was all covered with a strength in a combination that it wasn't such a surprise that Yugi was so infatuated by her.

He had smiled at the pair, asking politely after Anzu's health, noting happily that the bruising had all but faded, the stitches were out. After a quick, non-intrusive inquiry about the proceedings of the case against her attacker, he closed the subject, taking it to non-triggering topics.

He knew too well how awful it felt when people wanted to talk about something he'd rather forget all about.

It was karma, he supposed, that Seto didn't probe the subject of his disastrous relationship with Bakura again. The subject was never brought up again. Yami was alright with that. In fact, he preferred it that way. In a way, he was grateful for Seto asking him about it. He was grateful that he forced himself to trust the brunet enough to answer. The weight of it seemed…lighter, somehow. Easier to deal with. They were past the delicate stage of keeping secrets, now.

Everything fell into such…ease. Yami was breathless with it all.

The easy conversations, the smooth way they fit into one another's schedules. The simplicity that came with years of being together was present from the very beginning with them. There was no need for the tiptoeing that came with new relationships. No awkwardness. It was a rush of fresh air after years of stagnation and Yami couldn't get enough of it.

Another thing he couldn't get enough of was the sex.

He had many lovers. Men and women. No one matched Seto, no one even came close. Sex was always something he enjoyed but with Seto…? It went far, far beyond that.

There was something about the brunet that made turning him into a shivering, moaning, incoherent mess a goal that Yami strove with all his might to achieve. There was something intoxicating about the way the milk-colored skin turned red, the flush spreading all over the bridge of the sharp nose, all over the well-defined cheeks. The way the blue eyes got heavy-lidded, the brown hair falling into them and getting plastered with sweat onto his temples… it was a drug that Yami didn't think he could ever get enough of.

He was endlessly amused to see the frustration with which Seto pointed out the fact that his caramel-colored skin was too resilient, no matter how hard he tried to mark it. Yami took even more pleasure leaving his mark on his neck. Just to tick him off a little. It was an added bonus that he had a strange fixation on Seto's neck…and the fact that with enough attention to it, Seto was left a moaning mess, hard and dripping under his ministrations.

It was apparent that Seto, too, took it as a personal challenge to get him to lose control as many times during sex as he could. It wasn't that he had faked sensations during sex before, no. He was just more in control of himself. Regardless of his position, on top, on the bottom, giving or receiving… it didn't matter. Usually he was very composed. He had reduced lovers to tears from onslaught of sensation, ripped screams from a couple of throats. But he could honestly admit that he had never had it done to him before. He flushed a dark rosy-brown whenever he recalled that one time they had been in bed and Seto had teased him so thoroughly that when he finally reached his climax, he had lost awareness of everything around him and came to with Seto kissing him awake. He had passed out from the intensity of the sensations and Seto wouldn't stop being smug about it.

Yes…going to bed with Seto was an entirely new experience to him that he never wanted to end.

It made preparing for that 'conference' in Tokyo all the more exciting for him.

He usually liked conferences. He liked updating his information. He enjoyed the general atmosphere, the workshops done and trying his hand at new skills and bringing the knowledge back to his patients. He enjoyed speaking with older professors to ask their opinions on management options of different cases. It was a nice break from the stress of work. The rest his eyes got from all the red they saw and his mind got from the routine of staring into the insides of other people was a reprieve he enjoyed. It wasn't that he grew bored of it, but he was honest with himself that, as surgeons, it took its toll on them. The fact that they cut up people for a living, staring for hours into someone else's abdomen or chest cavity, it was bound to have its effect on them no matter how noble their objective was.

He treated conferences as the perfect mix of business and pleasure, where he got to do his job without getting his hands dirty, as well as visiting a new place, meeting new people.

The fact that he and Seto were going together made everything more exciting.

He was never going to admit it, though. Seto couldn't shut up about how this was like some kind of doctor-version of a honeymoon. It didn't make it any easier for Yami to control his temper especially since the brunet was sharing his opinion on the matter with anyone and everyone who would listen. He made sure to make it sound exactly like that; some kind of honeymoon.

Yami was using all of his self control not to flip out on him.

He had just finished admonishing him for the millionth time for starting up the topic with Rafael during an exploration surgery by saying, "Yami and I are going on a trip together," and making it all sound like some kind of outing instead of an actual conference—which he kept swearing on everything he held dear that it really was just that. Needless to say, the entirety of the very long, very difficult surgery was spent denying lecherous assumptions made by the blond anesthesiologist –who turned out to be even more horrible than Seto, if that was possible—and telling the brunet in question to kindly shut up and stop being an inappropriate little ass. All in all, it was a nightmare.

It was why Jou shifted his hazel eyes between both of them questioningly as they walked into his office together and sat down, Yami with an irate look on his features and Seto with a smug little grin on his.

"What have you done, Kaiba?" he asked with a scowl.

"Nothing," Seto innocently said crossing his legs elegantly in the seat.

Yami rolled his eyes.

"I am not above ruining your much awaited 'trip with Yami' to Tokyo and sending Honda with him instead," Jou said with a pleasant little smile, hazel eyes narrowing mischievously.

A smile spread rapidly on Yami's previously angry face while Seto opened his mouth in shock, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, Kaiba," the blond said cheekily, reaching for a few papers from the edge of his desk.

"Don't even think about it," Seto growled at him.

"Stop annoying Yami and we'll see," Jou said with an evil little grin and half a wink at Yami, who started giggling triumphantly. He shot a pleased little grin with a winning, teasing narrowing of his crimson eyes towards Seto who glared back at him. They turned back to the blond who cleared his throat to get their attention. "I've covered your schedules for the next week. Go and have a good time."

"We will don't worry," Seto replied with an evil little smile.

Jou glared at him so he shrugged and wiped it off his face half-heartedly.

"I've wanted to talk to you both about the coming intradepartmental elections," Jou spoke again. Yami raised an eyebrow questioningly, noting from the edge of his vision the way Seto looked at the edge of the desk, avoidance emanating from his body language. "Yami, I don't know how familiar you are with the process but we have elections for the heads of the departments every two years."

"Yes I heard…I don't know who is running for the position though or if I am allowed to cast a vote," Yami nodded.

"You are; you're now part of the department and you get to be part of the ballot," Jou explained. Yami nodded to show that he was following, "The ones running for the post are those who spent more than five years in the hospital and have acquired a PhD… a Professor and did not take the post before."

"Oh…" Yami said. He paused. "And who are those, currently?"

"It's Professor Crawford and this idiot right here," Jou told him, waving a hand towards Seto.

Yami blinked, oh-ed slightly in surprise and realization. Then, his features broke out into a huge smile as he turned to his lover. "Congrats," he said, genuine happiness on his features. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Seto shrugged, "We were discussing more important matters." He paused, a lecherous smile spreading on his features, "Doing more important things."

Yami shook his head, his genuine happiness for his lover not overridden by his irritation at Seto's subtle hints. "This must be such an honor!"

"It is," Jou said and Seto nodded in agreement. "It's why I wanted to talk to you, with Seto present. I understand that both of you are dating now. I also understand that you have had problems with Dr. Crawford."

Yami blinked.

"I am just going to advise you to think very carefully while choosing the head of the department," Jou told him.

There was silence for a few moments. Realization then dawned on Yami.

"I am aware that politics exist everywhere. I am just speaking to you to make sure you understand the repercussions of not thinking very wisely of your vote," Jou was saying.

"You want me to vote for Crawford?" Yami asked with a disbelieving smirk, raising an eyebrow.

Jou raised his hand, "I don't want you to do anything, Yami. I am irrelevant in this entire equation. I am just here to warn you, because surely, everyone will assume you will be voting for Seto, even if you don't vote for him and regardless of who deserves the position more."

Yami stayed silent, a thoughtful look on his features. The silence stretched for a while as he thought of the situation at hand.

"Look," Jou said, breaking the silence. Yami looked up at him. "I am not starting this conversation to stress you out or push you into one decision instead of another. You can do whatever you want. I am just telling you as a friend what the situation will look like. This is just a friendly discussion and I wanted it to be with both of you present. Seto is already suffering from rumors that have no true basis for years now. Domino is like any other tiny city in the world. People talk. I don't want you to be a victim of such rumors. And let me be honest. Seto deserves this more than Pegasus. But his position will always be tainted with the fact that you're both dating no matter how much he deserves it."

Yami nodded, "I understand."

He took a glance at Seto to find him watching him intently. He blinked and turned his gaze back to Jou.

"Usually, these things were given to the person who is older back in Egypt, because they've obtained their degree first," he said. "Dr. Crawford looks older. But who is it who got their PhD first?"

Silence hung over them for a few seconds.

"In that case, it's still Seto who would get your vote," Jou told him. Yami raised an eyebrow. "Professor Crawford's degree was…delayed. Seto obtained his degree two years before him."

"Look… I can just disqualify my vote, can't I?" Yami groaned out.

"That is an option, of course," Jou told him. "The better option, in my opinion, is to not show up at all on that day, Yami. If you want to avoid problems and wagging tongues altogether."

Yami sat back in his chair. "Look… when are these elections taking place?"

"Three weeks from now," Jou told him.

"I will think about it until then," Yami told him with a determined look on his features.

"Please do," Jou said. He then smiled with a glint of mischief, "Until then, enjoy your 'honeymoon' with Seto."

Yami groaned as Seto chuckled evilly from beside him.

"Not you too!"

tbc…


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Thanks a lot for all the love you're sending for this fic *hugs everyone* It's what keeps it going. *offers flowers* Just dropping a warning for lemon here in this chapter. A special treat for Hirami, who is the godmother of all prideshippers everywhere :D Enjoy, everyone.
> 
> EDIT: Onenatroll (Tumblr: http://onenatroll.tumblr.com/ ) has felt the need to be more awesome and wonderful than she already is and decided to go kill me and draw the lovely art at the end of the chapter :')
> 
> So so glad to have inspired this gorgeous art <3 <3 Thanks dear!

Conferences alone were one thing.

Conferences with Seto were an entirely different thing from what he was used to.

He should have known that the moment they stepped through the plane's doors and into their first-class seats and Seto immediately started harassing the cabin crew about this or that. Yami busied himself with a book he had brought along, smiling at the beautiful airhostess when she asked what he would like to drink, asking her for a cup of coffee.

Beside him, Seto scoffed, "Let's give it to you through IV, shall we?"

Yami rolled his eyes and ignored him. He buried his nose into the book to hide the unease that washed over him at the suggestion, because he had heard it countless times before from Bakura.

He didn't say anything.

"We could have some wine…"

Yami determinedly kept his eyes on the novel.

"Get wasted and have a quickie in the plane's bathroom…"

"I don't drink alcohol…"

"You are boring."

Yami snorted derisively. He smiled knowingly, not answering Seto. A few seconds passed in silence.

"Well, you're not…"

"Thought so."

Seto stayed silent for a while and Yami almost thought that he was going to let the matter go.

"Why though? Is it a religious thing?" he asked.

Yami shook his head, "You must have noticed that I am not the very religious type, Seto."

Seto hummed in agreement, "The thing you do with your tongue when giving me head can't have been taught at a house of God."

Yami lowered the novel, throwing his head back with laughter. He kept it up for a while, until Seto chuckled beside him lightly. He waited until there was nothing left of the sound except the mischievous little grin dancing on his lips as he turned to face Seto. "True, that…" he commented with a matter-of-fact shrug. Honestly, Seto made him laugh so hard sometimes. As a reward for that, Yami decided to elaborate a bit more on the issue the brunet was asking about. "I just think alcohol is a lot of calories that I don't need."

"Is everything you do related to your weight?" Seto asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yami rolled his eyes. "It really isn't."

"Don't worry if you gain a lot of weight; I will still love you regardless and think you're pretty."

Yami grinned. "I am reassured. Your approval is the driving force behind my very existence, Seto," he sarcastically commented, raising his book up once again.

By the end of the short flight which took roughly an hour and a half—complete with all the checking in, checking out, the security checks at both airports and the luggage lines— Yami was half-grateful, half-frustrated. His strategy worked. Seto took the bait and turned all of his annoying comments on him instead of the cabin crew. He had sacrificed his peace of mind for that one hour to spare their poor hostesses the pain of dealing with the brunet. He supposed that it was alright; he had the experience on how to deal with him.

Thankfully, the annoying chatter ended when they were walking out of the airport. It was a little past six in the evening and the sun had set, sparkling lights in the distance telling him that Tokyo was a very bright, very busy place. He quietly made that observation the moment they walked out of Terminal 1 and Seto asked him, "You've never been to Tokyo before?"

He had shaken his head, "First time."

At that, the smirk that seemed to be permanently etched on Seto's handsome features disappeared, a bright grin taking its place as he reached for his hand, pulling him gently and saying, "Then let me be your guide for this trip, then!"

There was a car waiting for them. Yami looked at Seto suspiciously as their luggage was taken from them and the door opened to the lavish car's seat along with a polite driver who respectfully bent lightly at the waist, greeting them with, "Dr. Kaiba, Dr. Motou, welcome to Tokyo. I hope you had a pleasant flight."

Once they were safely inside the car, Yami asked, "Is the conference providing this, or is it yours?"

Seto grinned, "Conference. If you want, I can send him with our luggage and call one of my limos instead."

"No thanks," Yami rushed out, uncomfortable with the fact that they were being driven to the hotel like that. He didn't think he could stand arriving with a limo, the pomp just made him cringe.

Thankfully, Seto didn't insist and let the matter slide. Instead, as they drove out of the airport, Seto launched into an explanation of all the things they could do during their stay for the conference. Yami allowed him to take on the role of the tour guide as the car took them out of the Ota Ward and into the metropolis.

Whatever annoyance he felt at the constant bickering they did on the plane faded, replaced with the pleasant sensations Seto's voice brought within him, coupled with the fact that he was seeing a new place for the first time, staring out of the windows at buildings they were driving past, some of them so high that he had to bend down really low to see the top of, sometimes even failing with how high they towered.

Tokyo reminded him of Cairo, in many ways. It was…huge. From what he understood from Seto's talk, Tokyo wasn't just one city. It was a group of Wards, each with its own characteristics and general atmosphere and personality. Ota and the metropolis were just two of many of those. Cairo had been like that, too. And much like Egypt's capital, Japan's was just as loud. Loud, colorful, energetic. It took his breath away slightly.

And much like Cairo…the quick pace, the industrial, crowded appearance of the city –or at least the part where they would be staying—it didn't impress him a lot. His first impression was to wonder where the greenery or open areas were. He supposed that it was unfair to judge based on the small part of the immense city that they saw on the way to the hotel, but for some reason, he found the overly-modern, almost futuristic appearance that Tokyo had, slightly intimidating.

The conference was being held at the Ritz-Carlton and their accommodation was there as well. When they arrived, checking themselves into the lobby and receiving their suites' keycards, Yami admitted to Seto in the elevator that the city looked very modern. That he wasn't very excited about that and that he'd rather just get some sleep instead of going out tonight.

"Are you alright? We can skip out on the opening ceremony, if you'd like," Seto suggested, concern lacing his words.

"No, no…it's fine. I mean… let's keep exploring for another day and just attend the opening ceremony."

Seto deflated a little.

Yami apologized, so he rushed out, "No, no…it's alright. Thought I'd take you out to a club and force alcohol down your throat. Damn it, Yami, always ruining my plans."

Yami shook his head in exasperation.

Their suites were located on the same floor. He did not know why they were given executive luxury suites, since standard rooms would have sufficed, especially since this was the Ritz-Carlton and even standard rooms were very impressive, but it seemed that the surgery department at the hospital really pampered all of its members so he wasn't about to complain. Yami entered his, placing his cell phone and wallet on the counter next to the suite's entrance, passing by the en suite bar and the marble counter in front of it. A quick glance revealed very, very tastefully designed living area with a screen hung up on the wall above an entertainment corner and a comfortable looking pair of armchairs in front of it, with a little table between them. There was a door that Yami assumed led into the bathroom next to the area where the bedroom part of the suite was location. The bed was gigantic with a frankly ridiculous amount of pillows piled at its head.

There was a huge floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the glittering skyline of Tokyo on the right side of the bed. Yami took in the view for a few minutes, staring at the breathtaking sight stretched out unhindered in front of him. The hotel was located in the top nine floors of this fifty-three storey building, and his and Seto's suites were located just two levels before the very rooftop. There wasn't many buildings nearby blocking his view and he could feel his heart racing slightly at the height he was standing at.

He took a breath and walked back towards his luggage, dragging his suitcase behind him to the bedroom, opening it and taking out his personal items. He deposited his toiletries in the bathroom then removed his hair band, running his fingers through its strands to release the dent it left in it. He took off his clothes, hanging them off the back of the elegant-looking ferforje vanity chair in front of the sink.

He showered, washing his hair and generally just happy to get rid of the tiredness of the day. He supposed that it didn't matter how long or short his flight was; he would always feel tired after boarding a plane. Maybe he was growing old, too.

He smiled to himself as he stepped out of the shower, putting on the terrycloth robe folded neatly next to the shower cabinet. He walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair and taking out his clothes for the ceremony taking place at nine sharp. He had just over half an hour to get ready.

The opening ceremony for the conference didn't usually take long, thankfully. It was typically Yami's least favorite part of any of these events. Tedious and boring, filled with a lot of thanks and buttering for attendees and sponsoring companies which he frankly couldn't care much about it. But he just thought it was very arrogant if he didn't attend the opening and out of politeness, he usually sat through them and endured.

He had picked a charcoal-grey, wool-silk business suit that was tailored accurately to his body. He paired it with an ivory shirt. He decided to forgo the tie, leaving the top two buttons open. He put on a pair of brown shoes and placed a pair of classic, oval cufflinks with a black enamel center on, then pulled his hair back into a little ponytail, allowing some of the shorter, lighter-colored strands to come loose and frame his features, knowing that no matter what he did, they would most probably escape the hair-tie anyway.

He had waited for Seto in the hotel's lobby, in front of the entrance to the main hall. He hadn't met anyone he knew so far. He expected he might, since these conferences were highly-prestigious and presenting a thesis or a paper here was a very bright spot in anyone's resume.

He had been distracted from wondering who he might meet here by Seto making his appearance.

Yami found himself making conscious effort not to do anything more than lick his lips at the sight. He could easily imagine Seto at the top of an empire like Kaiba Corporation. He looked so natural, so at home in his formal attire. Yami allowed his eyes to roam over the tall, slim form, taking in the black suit that would have been boring on anyone else, but on Seto, paired with a baby blue shirt and a dark blue tie that matched his eye color perfectly, which he had knotted into a four-in-hand tie, he looked like something out of a fashion magazine.

Which wasn't something new for him, Yami decided, wondering why Seto's insanely gorgeous appearance always took his breath away like this. By now, he should be more used to it. He didn't think he really could get over how sexy Seto looked in every single thing he wore. Business suits, he made very exciting. Knitwear looked positively _divine_ on him –something that Yami didn't think was possible. The unattractive surgery scrubs made his days at work a lot more exciting. And last, but not least, he of course looked best in nothing but his skin.

It made Yami's hand itch to touch him whenever he could.

He had attempted to offer a compliment, but Seto had beat him to it, telling him he looked ravishing. He said thank you and was once again about to make a comment on the brunet's stunning appearance in a business suit, but scowled heavily when Seto told him he wanted to bend him over a desk, lower those form fitting pants and screw him until he couldn't see straight anymore.

Yami, scandalized, left him and walked into the hall.

He had greeted the young woman with bright eyes who introduced herself as part of the Organizing Committee. He tried to calm her down when she breathlessly greeted him, apparently cowed by the impressive list of degrees he had listed down beside his name on the guest list. He asked what medical school she was attending and which year. He stood speaking to her about basic clinical skills she was studying at her level and giving her advice on textbooks and resources she can refer for her studies. Waving goodbye and taking his seat, he ignored Seto who was led by another OC to the seat right next to his.

They sat through the opening, Yami leafing through the pamphlet he was given, eyes just skimming through the program of the event. There were a lot of papers being discussed, many workshops taking place and whole bunch of interactive activities that made up a typical medical conference. He supposed he wasn't going to attend everything on the list, but it would be nice to attend certain discussions and presentations in particular, since an update on those topics would be extremely beneficial to his and Seto's own paper.

He took out his phone, opening up his planner and set a reminder for the times when a discussion on interventional endoscopy and another discussing the management of trauma in hepatic-disease patients would take place. He also underlined topics related to radiology, one topic discussing the effectiveness of abdominal ultrasound for conclusive laparotomies and a comparison between it and CT scans as an alternative.

There was a vast amount of topics being discussed, especially since the conference wasn't dealing with any particular aspect of traumatology, but the entire branch of surgery as a whole.

It was going to be a busy week.

But it was going to be fun, he knew that. These events always were. He put his phone away, trying to pay attention to the words being said. Seto leaned closer, rudely making a comment on the speaker's choice of tie. Yami bit his lips, trying not to laugh and hissing at Seto to stop being rude. Naturally he didn't stop and added something quite horrible about one of the sponsors that the man was currently praising. Yami was desperate. They were in the second row seats from the podium and their quibbling was bound to get noticed especially since Seto's comments got funnier and he was having trouble controlling himself.

He raised the pamphlet in front of their faces, pretending to lean closer to Seto to whisper something in his ear. Using the pamphlet to cover them from front and the high backs of the cushioned seats of the hall to cover them from the back, he nibbled on that spot underneath the curve of Seto's jaw, where his neck met with it. Hard and strong, he suckled on the skin there, stopping only when he was sure that a rosy-brown spot was left on his neck.

Unfailingly, he heard the familiar hitching of Seto's breath in his throat, felt him stiffening and through the corner of his eyes, saw the flush that spread over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

Smiling, he pulled back a fraction, whispering, "If you don't stop trying to make a scene, my hotel suite will be off limits to you for the duration of our stay."

He placed a small kiss on the spot just above the collar of the shirt and sat back, an innocent look on his features.

Thankfully, and as expected, the ceremony didn't take too long.

Yami declined the offer of the young lady in the OC to have dinner, telling her he would be having it in his own room. He managed to say those words just before Seto dragged him quite rudely away towards the elevators.

There were people with them in the elevator and Yami supposed it was his saving grace from getting molested in the enclosure that was a lot more spacious than the hospital's tiny, boring one. Seto had been silent ever since his little threat and Yami felt a small smile spreading over his features at the way his lover was just so…so good at being obedient when he wanted.

It sent a rush of delicious heat through his body.

He smirked lightly when they walked into his rooms. "You can help yourself to my bar if you like…I doubt I will have any need for it," he offered with a calm, level tone, stepping close to the windows that fascinated him beyond belief.

"I have one of my own back in my own suite. I am here for what I don't have back there."

"Oh, and what's that?" Yami cheekily asked, looking over his shoulder at him for a moment, averting his eyes to the view before him once again.

Soon, he felt the familiar heat standing right behind him. Strong arms wrapped around him and Seto placed a small kiss on his temple and Yami leaned his weight back against the taller frame behind him, bending his head sideways to expose his neck to the brunet's mouth.

He allowed his hand to rise to bury his fingers in the soft locks of brown hair, holding Seto closer to him and letting his hands start divesting him of his clothes, starting by undoing the top button of his suit's jacket and slipping it off with ease. Yami moved with him, letting the heavy cloth slide off the smooth silk of his ivory shirt. Seto tossed it over the back of the nearby armchair then pulled at the belt, loosening it and proceeding to unbutton and unzip his pants, pushing it over his hips along with his underwear, letting it pool at his feet. He moved smoothly, kicking the cloth away and standing in Seto's arms with just his shirt on.

Soon, Seto's lips left his neck, trailing hot breath over his jaw and zeroing in on his lips. They stood, chest to back, kissing before the immense windows and Yami closed his eyes, savoring the sensation that he couldn't imagine ever growing tired of. It was wholesome… filled parts of him that he didn't know were empty until he and Seto kissed. It sent a rush of warmth in him as well as sent his heart racing.

And currently, his heart was racing with a rush of arousal. Seto's hands expertly unbuttoned most of his shirt. They seemed to know exactly where to touch him. His other hand, which hadn't fisted in his lover's hair positioned itself on the glass especially as his knees weakened considerably as one of Seto's wandering hands stopped at one of his nipples, his index finger circling around it teasingly and he moaned softly at the sensation, back arching and unconsciously pushing his chest out towards the pleasant stimulus. Seto's other hand was reaching down, wrapping long fingers around his semi-hard erection stroking it with slow tugs.

He opened his eyes as Seto drew back just a little bit, his mouth next to his ear asking where the lube was. He mentioned his bag's outer pocket, making to move back to go grab it, but Seto tutted several times, using his weight to pin Yami back against the glass windows.

"Stay…"

It was a breathy command that Yami couldn't disobey. He stayed where he was, indulging the brunet and felt himself flushing a bright crimson when the strong arms wrapped around him once more, holding his hands, guiding them so that he had one of them wrapped around his already-leaking sex and the other was playing with his nipples.

He stood there for what seemed like hours when it was probably just few seconds, until Seto came back. He hadn't stopped playing with himself as his lover had instructed him to and the fact that they were about to have sex against the windows of their hotel room and the commanding tone Seto used with him and the thought that soon, Seto would be moving within him all had him achingly hard and dripping. Every nerve ending on his body was alive with sensation and the second Seto placed his hands on him once again, he leaned into the touch, his hand reaching behind him to unbutton Seto's pants, eager to be joined with him.

Seto allowed him to go as far as lowering the zipper on his pants, before holding his wrist and raising his arm, pinning it to the glass beside him.

"Keep your hands there, Yami," he told him and Yami bit his lip hard to prevent the whimper that tried to bubble out of his chest from escaping. He obeyed, letting Seto's hands roam his body as they pleased, enjoying the sensual way with which they pulled up at the fabric of the shirt that fell to the top of his thighs where they met his bottom. He drew in a shaky breath at the drag of Seto's blunt nails on his skin, the sensation of smooth silk against his skin that seemed hyper aware of everything so suddenly. And most importantly, he whimpered helplessly at the rush of heat in him at Seto's clothed form behind his own half-naked.

He imagined he looked absolutely depraved, pinned against the glass in this Tokyo skyscraper wearing only his shirt and having Seto play his body like an instrument perfectly tuned to his every whim. It was an intoxicating sensation. He had never been overwhelmed by a lover the way Seto made him feel. The brunet was everywhere, his touches, his kisses…the very breath he took around him surrounded him securely in a tight aura of strength that left him breathless in many ways he couldn't even begin to count.

He closed his eyes as seconds after he heard the bottle of lube opening, he felt Seto's slick fingers at his entrance, easily sliding inside him. Gently, they entered him, Seto slowly preparing him, opening his fingers in scissoring motions, every now and then bending them slightly forward and sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Yami and weakening his knees further by brushing over his prostate repeatedly.

He opened his eyes, a distant part of him noting the way with which his breath fogged up the glass and turned his head sideways slightly to stare at the utter concentration, the completely careful look that dominated Seto's handsome side profile. He leaned back, closer, so his mouth was next to Seto's ear and he whispered impatiently, "Seto… either fuck me _right now_ , or you'll find yourself in my place very soon."

Seto chuckled lightly and Yami felt the hairs on his body rising deliciously at the sound. There was a pause in which Seto moved away slightly and Yami heard the distinct sound of the condom wrapper getting torn, a few more moments of silence and then Seto was back.

Strong hands were at his hips, gripping them tightly as the blunt head of Seto's sex was positioned at his entrance. He forced himself to relax, pushing back against Seto allowing him entry and cringing ever-so-slightly at the initial burn of it but breathing evenly and deeply as his lover settled against him completely in one smooth long stroke. He paused for a moment, as usual asking him if he was ready. And with Yami's approving growl, he started pulling out once again, before pushing back inside.

The delicious friction and the angle that Seto so far never missed, coupled with the pace Seto kept up made him moan with insensate pleasure. He kept his hands flat on the glass, leaning his forehead against it and clenched his eyes shut against the luscious sensations. The pace was slow…agonizing. The drag of Seto's hardness inside him, against the ring of tight muscle at his entrance and the nerve-rich spot that the brunet's flesh dragged against with every inward stroke made his toes curl and made it very difficult to remain upright.

He needed more and he growled, "Kaiba… fuck me harder or I swear I will…"

He couldn't continue. It was as if Seto had been waiting for those exact words for his hands to tighten even more around his hips, plunging inside him in one swift smooth motion that cut off the rest of sentence with a gasp and a burst of stars in his vision.

Quick and ruthless, Seto shoved into him, flattening him against the glass that some dark, twisted part of Yami hoped was strong enough to take their weight. He could no longer form coherent words and any protest he had been about to say to his lover was lost as he was pinned without mercy between the hard glass and Seto's punishing thrusts.

At some point, his knees gave out and Seto wrapped one of his arms around his waist, his other arm hooking under Yami's knee and raising it, while his taller body pinned Yami's tighter against the glass. Yami held on to the arm wrapped around his waist, his fingers digging into the expensive-looking cloth and a faint part of him could recognize the diamond studded platinum cufflinks. He was almost about to laugh at the display of lavish wealth, but he couldn't do anything except holding on for dear life and the only sound that escaped him were gasps of pleasure. The new angle drove Seto inside him deeper, the sensation proving to be too much for him to take and soon, he found himself coming hard with a keening sound that rose from deep within him and with the amazed realization that he was doing so untouched like a sixteen year old getting his hands on his first stash of porn.

To his surprise—and slight alarm—Seto made no move to try and finish after him. In fact, Yami noticed as he rode the final waves of his orgasm that his strokes slowed down, moving in and out of him with an almost lazy pace. Yami blinked away the tears that accumulated in the corners of his eyes with the sensations passed and the ones washing over him anew.

He gasped as Seto's hip pushed up into him, once again brushing over his overworked, overly-sensitive prostate. He whimpered at the sensations, swearing under his breath.

Seto chuckled darkly. The brunet leaned down a bit, his lips nipping erotically at the area beneath Yami's ear, making him keen slightly at the rush it sent through his body. Seto's hands were once again on the move, this time both of them lavishing attention onto his nipples, teasing and flicking them nonstop while his lips worshipped the skin of neck, the juncture of his shoulder and the sharp protrusion of his clavicles…

Under his ministrations and the talented mouth alternating between kissing him, biting at his neck and breathing hot, moist air onto his over-sensitive skin, he was amazed to feel another rush of arousal settling within him.

Sensing this, one of Seto's hands left his now overly-sensitive chest and trailed downwards to his newly-interested sex wrapping his hand around it once again and starting to stroke it with long, firm pulls that left him gasping and jerking convulsively within his arms, aroused but still sensitive from his previous orgasm. Repeatedly, Seto tugged at his length, stroking the head of his sex expertly and guiding him towards another orgasm. He felt the knot of pleasure tightening inside him and racing towards climax once again and apparently, Seto could sense the second peak rushing over him again and so quickened his thrusts into his body.

The burn from the prolonged stimulation was driving him insane. He was exhausted and Seto's pace was punishing. He could do nothing except remain helplessly at his mercy as the brunet's hips ground punishingly within him, the slender fingers stroking him tirelessly towards his second orgasm in less than half an hour.

He was almost there, when he felt the first telltale signs of Seto's orgasm, a faint faltering of his rhythm, harsh, throaty groans escaping him, the sound music to Yami's ears. He could feel his walls tightening with his own impending climax, Seto's fingers stroking over the head of his sensitive member. He was making whimpering little sounds, half encouraging, half pleading. He didn't know what exactly the sensations rushing through him were at this moment, but he knew that he wanted them to go on forever, yet at the same time, he wanted them to end.

It was the typical myriad of sensations that Seto heaped upon him. Anger and affection, impatience and long-suffering tolerance… wanting to forever remain stuck in his arms with these overwhelming sensation, yet aching for the crowning pinnacle of it all, to shatter completely within his arms beyond repair.

The brunet's lips were again seeking his own. He turned his head, leaning his temple on the glass and letting the sensation of the now-familiar, soft lips on his own push him to his second orgasm, just as he swallowed the growl that Seto was letting out as he too finally reached completion inside him.

His vision had darkened and he closed his eyes, leaning even more against the glass and sliding down it slowly. He could feel Seto's warmth disappearing from behind him for a while after their bodies were separated. He sat crumbled next to the windows, gasping and trying to regain his breath and get himself under control.

He felt Seto's arms wrapping around him and a kiss being placed on top of his head.

"You alright?"

He smiled, "Hell, yes…"

He felt Seto's smile against his temple and he closed his eyes, curling up in his lover's arms, letting himself relax and savor the sensation for now. It had been ages since he was held and he was surely going to enjoy it while it lasted.

The next day, he woke up to Seto's lips on his temple, his fingers touching his cheek. He remembered that he had fallen asleep in much the same way, after they had moved to the bed. He thought he heard Seto telling him he loved him and he had surrendered to the pull of sleep on him with those words on his mind. He smiled while remembering them, curling his form around Seto's in the sunlight that the room was lit with.

A few minutes of laziness later, they decided that they needed to get up now if they were ever going to make it on time for the first program of the day. Seto kissed him one last time after they got out of bed, telling him he'd meet him downstairs for some breakfast in half an hour.

Yami showered and changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark crimson shirt. The day's activities did not require formal attire and he could settle into his usual smart casuals with ease after showering and freshening up. He then grabbed his phone, a pen and left his room, going downstairs. He waited for less than five minutes, after which he found Seto arriving in grey slacks and a white shirt.

They walked side by side into the restaurant, Yami ordering his coffee before anything else, while Seto proceeded to order them a full breakfast spread. Yami still couldn't get over the fact that Seto could eat so much and still maintain the perfect form he had. He sat sipping at his coffee after a bite or two of his toast while Seto went through the different plates spread out in front of them with surety and enthusiasm that he had to commend him for.

"It's why your metabolism is so slow. You don't have breakfast."

"Sure, sure…" Yami agreed in a placating manner as they entered the hall to take their seats.

The first speaker was just starting his discussion. Yami hoped Seto would be mature enough to remain silent throughout this session at least. He was pleasantly surprised when the brunet did just that. He remained silent for most of the presentation, making notes on his phone every now and then. He didn't interrupt even once, waiting for the question and answer part of the presentation to ask a well thought-out inquiry.

It was the same for the other discussions that followed that morning's session. It was a pleasantly surprising side of Seto and Yami wondered if he always was a serious student even during school.

"Never thought you'd be the disciplined student," he remarked as they walked out of hall for the lunch break, three hours later.

"Hmm…?" Seto asked, looking down at him. He blinked and laughed slightly, "Oh… yeah, well. When I am serious I'm serious I suppose."

They were stopped when the same girl who had led them to their seats called Seto's name timidly. She told him that a group of post-grad students were requesting a meeting with him. Yami told him to go ahead and that he would use the restrooms and wander around a little while he met with them.

He had almost an hour before the day's activities commenced again. He did as he told Seto, used the facilities then sought out another cup of coffee. He sat down in one of the white-colored armchairs next to the windows, staring outside at the bustling city. It was a cloudy day, rain threatening to pour down onto the city and Yami felt a peace settling within him at the promise of unsettled weather.

He sat sipping at his coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet and running over what he could remember from the topics getting discussed later on today in the day, reminding himself to pay close attention to the endoscopy-related topics being discussed. He set the cup down and closed his eyes, leaning his head against his hands whose fingers were crossed beneath his chin.

He stayed like that for a while until someone spoke from behind him in fluent Arabic.

"I still stand by my opinion when it comes to you and your coffee, Yami…"

His eyes flew open at the familiar sexy tone. Gravelly and low, rising with a rumble from its owner's chest and settling deep within him to chill him to the very bones.

"An IV line would be more cost-effective and time-saving."

He turned around, dreading the sight that he knew was going to meet him.

A familiar tall figure stood staring fondly down at him, one hand in the pocket of his pants. He had the smirk that Yami was oh-so-familiar raising the side of his mouth. Brown eyes were studying him carefully with familiar white bangs falling into them.

Of all the people he expected to meet so far away from Egypt and running to the farthest place he could reach away from his past and everything related to it…

It was all pointless since apparently, that same past followed after him all the way to Japan.

And it stood behind him, materialized as Bakura.

"Good to see you again, Yami…"

tbc...


	16. Chapter 16

He supposed it should not have come as such a shock.

Bakura was a surgeon. A trauma surgeon. A conference of this size, in a reputable country like Japan…? It really should not have come as a surprise.

"I didn't see you during last night's dinner."

He was speaking once again, pulling the chair opposite him, taking a seat like it was the most natural thing ever. Like he belonged on the other side of the table. Natural, smooth, confident. As usual.

And as usual, without giving the slightest thought to what Yami felt about all of this. The fact that his heart was thundering like a canon in his ears, the fact that he could feel his mouth drying, his head spinning with panicked thoughts and his fingers shaking with the rush of adrenaline that swept through him, upsetting and screwing over any semblance of peace he was feeling mere seconds ago.

Unconsciously, his hands wrapped tightly around the bowl-like cup in front of him, shielding the fact that they were shaking from the guest on his table. Very subtly, he swallowed, pursing his lips tightly and biting on the inside of his cheek to control himself not to release any unexpected whimpering sounds or anything equally embarrassing. He breathed evenly and slowly through his nose, starting a quick grounding exercise so he wouldn't hurl himself into the arms of the panic attack waiting for him to succumb to its clutches.

In some insane way…somehow, he kept a calm façade about him.

"I had dinner in my room yesterday," he heard himself speak.

He fought with all his might not to blink in amazement at how level, how cool he sounded as he spoke the words. Almost as if he was having a casual conversation with a long lost friend. As if his instincts weren't all screaming for him to bolt for the door or curl up with his head between his knees and his arms around his head protectively.

"You never liked conference dinners," Bakura was smiling and Yami felt the fine hairs on his skin rising.

He raised the cup to his lips, grateful for the miracle –or perhaps the nerves of steel he developed from years of dealing with trauma surgeries—that somehow steadied his hands so much. He took a small sip. Forced himself to swallow, especially since his favorite beverage turned to tasteless warm liquid sliding on his tongue and down his throat. He forced himself not to cringe. He forced himself to close his eyes. Forced himself to remember that this was broad daylight. That he was safe here.

His panic was rising, though. He knew he had to keep his eyes fixed on Bakura if he was ever going to continue this confrontation strong. And so, after just two or three seconds of closing his eyes and reliving his worst memories in the darkness behind his lids, he opened them again.

Just a fraction, his heart rate calmed.

"You would know that too well," he muttered in calm tones.

"Of course. The entire surgery department back home knew that while everyone gouged themselves on good free food, you would stick your cute little nose up at it and eat alone," the white-haired man said, sitting back in the white chair, crossing his legs and crossing his fingers together on his lap.

The compliment made his skin crawl.

He ignored it. and he ignored the 'back home' expression. Everything about the situation made him ill and he was painfully aware that slowly, his face was paling, drained of its blood. He knew his usually dark lips were becoming a sickly pale color. He felt terrible and he felt even more terrible about the fact that soon, Bakura would know exactly that his strength was feigned. That he was still the same young man in his mid-twenties, without experience, without strength… suffering through the mental games he played so well on him alone.

 _Alone_ …

The thought left a lump in the back of his throat. A lump and a horrid taste in his mouth, along with a threatening burn in the corners of his eyes and he could feel the beginnings of an impending panic attack looming threateningly over his shoulders. It was happening and there was nothing about to stop it. he was going to cause a scene here in the hotel's lobby, in front of the one person he had to appear completely composed in front of and there was nothing he could do about it, and the helplessness of his situation was sending him tumbling faster towards his attack and no amount of grounding exercises was going to help him now.

Nothing was going to help him now.

And as though by some divine order, just as the helpless thought rushed through his addled mind… a white clad arm came within his line of vision, ending with a slender hand that covered his own which were still wrapped around his cup of coffee.

He blinked in surprise and shifted his head up, dragging his gaze over the slender fingers, the familiar wrist, the strong forearm…the upper arm whose swell of deltoid he knew too well and up the gorgeous neck to land on Seto's features.

And suddenly, the roaring in his ears quieted down.

There was something in Seto's eyes. Understanding. Alarm and anger, but most important of all, understanding. And it was all wrapped in an expression that, for this particular critical moment, shushed down Yami's racing thoughts and his frighteningly rapid heartbeat. It was a split second in which their eyes met. But in it, Yami knew that Seto came to the correct conclusion about his companion's identity. In it, he conveyed his concern and his anger at the memory of what Yami had shared with him almost a month ago. In it… he conveyed the most important thought to Yami at that moment: that he was here now and that he, Yami, wasn't alone in this.

"Let me just have a sip of that before we go back please," the brunet was saying, taking the cup from his hands after very subtly pressing Yami's fingers against the fine porcelain of it. Yami understood easily that he was trying to make subtle physical contact with him and he was eternally grateful for it. a few moments later, Seto straightened with the cup, raising it to his lips to take a sip while averting his gaze to Bakura.

If it had been in any other situation, Yami would have dissolved into giggles at the condescending way with which Seto stared down his nose at the white-haired man seated across from him. But he didn't and focused instead when he heard Seto speaking again.

"Will you introduce me to your friend, Yami?" he was asking.

Yami swallowed discreetly, turning his eyes once again to Bakura who was holding Seto's condescending blue gaze with his own dark eyes. Yami knew that look too well. It was a predatory look that took in every detail, no matter how trivial. Bakura was studying Seto very carefully. It increased the illness Yami felt at the situation in its entirety tenfold. It was a sickening look that he was too familiar with. The brown eyes glinted ominously from beneath white locks, mouth twisting in a serene, disturbing smirk.

Yami felt like bolting upright and dragging Seto away from it and being on the other end of it.

"Seto…this is Dr. Bakura Akeifa, he was my direct senior during my residency years in Egypt," Yami said, looking between them. He knew the information was unnecessary for Seto, but he wasn't about to let Bakura know that he had been brought up at all and he stuck with that. He also decided that since he wasn't going to explain that Bakura was his former lover, he sure as hell wasn't going to let Bakura know anything about his current one. "Bakura, this is Dr. Seto Kaiba, the co-writer of my current thesis."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Bakura pleasantly said and Yami almost snorted at the civilized way with which he spoke.

Nothing like he remembered him. with eyes shadowed with his shock of white hair, features twisted into a horrifying sneer as he looked down at him, trapping him with the broad frame and ruthless blows that came too quickly and too unexpectedly for him to try and avoid.

His eyes had glazed over ever-so-slightly with the images running through his mind. Seto's voice brought him out of it. "Pleasure is all mine…" a distant part of him made out the words and understood them. He was partly aware that Seto had turned to him, saying, "One of the students wants to meet you, Yami…let's go?"

The words filtered through his mind but he was unable to process them. He let instincts take over and got up. He was surprised and pleased with himself. The level way with which he moved. It was all that mattered at the moment. It didn't matter that chaos was wreaking havoc on his insides right now. What mattered was that he rose smoothly and gracefully from his seat, hands steady as he reached for his phone, wallet and pen, collecting them.

"It was nice seeing you again," he lied smoothly, amazed at the lack of quiver in his voice as he addressed Bakura who was also rising from his seat.

He was congratulating himself. It was over and they were leaving and he hadn't had a single lapse in composure in front of Bakura. It was something to celebrate and be proud of.

And as if he jinxed it, as he and Seto stood next to the table, with Bakura standing in front of them, his former lover moved suddenly. Thinking about it, Yami told himself he should not have reacted the way he did.

Bakura had raised his hand suddenly, reaching for him. The movement was quick, Yami did not expect it. In retrospect, it also looked very innocent. It was the speed of it that made everything so alarming. He wasn't thinking rationally. He wasn't even trying. He had been too distracted trying to appear in perfect self-control that he was careless. He wasn't thinking rationally and when the movement came, all his mind could fathom… was the fact that Bakura was moving quickly around him, towards him, moving the familiar arm and hand towards him, towards his face with speed.

It usually equated to a lot of pain.

Two things happened at once in response to the hand that moved towards him so suddenly.

First, was his reaction. All the composure he had been meticulously feigning was gone. He flinched and stiffened. Instinctively, he had moved back, his features scrunching up at the pain he was expecting to blossom soon and he stayed perfectly still, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself than was absolutely necessary.

And second…Seto had moved a moment after Bakura did.

Yami blinked.

Seto had one arm around him, pulling him nearer to his chest and farther away from Bakura. The other was held up, his hand wrapped securely around Bakura's wrist, stopping him just as he was a few centimeters away from Yami not allowing him to touch him. Yami blinked twice more in shock, staring at Seto's hand wrapped tightly, powerfully around Bakura's wrist holding it in place. He shifted his eyes up at the cold expression in Seto's eyes, his mouth set in determination as he fixed the white-haired man with a glare that Yami knew would send lesser men running.

But Bakura wasn't the type to run, he supposed. He had a triumphant look subtly lurking in his brown eyes.

Yami realized that he was standing with his back directly to Seto's chest as he spoke. He felt the strong vibrations of his voice against his back. "What do you suppose you are doing, Dr. Akeifa?" Seto was asking.

Bakura chuckled and Yami once again could feel his skin crawling. He felt stupid especially as he realized what his former lover had done. Their eyes met and Yami recognized the amusement in the brown eyes. Even before he replied, Yami knew it was a lie.

"I was just fixing Yami's collar for him," came the smooth excuse. Yami looked away. "He always hates it when he finds out that it's crooked or rumpled. Thought I'd give him a hand. Sorry Yami, didn't know you've gotten so nervous and keep bodyguards around you."

Seto let go of his wrist with a subtle push in a gesture that was contemptuous at best. His glare was still fixed in place as he answered, ignoring the jab at him, "It is generally unacceptable to make sudden moves to invade another person's personal space like this. Do keep that in mind."

Yami felt faint. His heart was pounding too heavily in his ears and he was alarmed to realize that it was too late and too pointless to try and prevent Bakura from realizing the ill feeling he inspired in him. Yami knew that the action wasn't as subtle as the white-haired man wanted to make it look. And it sure as hell wasn't to 'fix his collar'. Bakura was trying to find out if he was still that quivering nervous mess he made out of him and he had succeeded with flying colors in proving it to himself and, more importantly, to Yami that he most probably won't be able to keep himself together around him. No matter how hard he tried to pretend.

"We will take our leave now," Seto was saying, his arm tightening very slightly around him, then shifting down. He turned, nudging Yami ever-so-slightly to do so as well.

Everything was a nasty blur after that. Yami let himself be led through the lavish hallways of the hotel. They walked a short distance, expertly avoiding people. They were in a quiet large space by themselves for a few minutes, then they were walking again… and that was where he lost good awareness of their surroundings and what they were doing. The familiar roar in his ears was something he couldn't ignore. He was too busy paying attention to how loud it was getting than he was paying attention to where they were going. It deafened him to any and all other sounds and, coupled with the heat rising at the back of his neck, the sweat that beaded coldly at his hairline, ran down his back sickeningly. He could feel the palpitating heart acutely and soon, his chest started aching and he couldn't breathe.

He was desperately trying to calm down enough to start grounding himself. It was very difficult. It was too late. He was drowned by the waves of panic, his heart rate offering a noisy unwelcome soundtrack and a sense of suffocation…almost death looming over him. the pain tightening his chest unbearably was too distracting from any other sensation and he felt himself holding his breath against it.

In the haze of terror, however, he felt sudden coolness settling on the back of his neck. A detached part of his mind provided that it was a wet cloth. And with the shock of sensation that jolted him back from the throes of panic, he realized he wasn't alone. He was lying on his side in recovery position on the ground against a lush, unrecognizable carpet. There was a body right behind his, spooning his within it and an arm was wrapped around him, holding him tight and secure against the warmth behind him and pinning him firmly to the floor, preventing him from shattering to a thousand pieces.

He heard himself gasp. He felt the arm around him tightening, the coolness on the back of his neck shifting to the sides of it.

He heard Seto's voice speaking from a distance, cutting through the roar in his ears. He was counting something and Yami clung to every word.

"Breathe… Yami, one, two…"

He gasped again, once…twice. He tried to breathing out and failed. He held on to Seto's voice for guidance, awaiting his count and with what seemed like monumental effort, he finally managed to exhale.

"Good, Yami, again…one, two," Seto was speaking again. His voice was firm, cutting through the haze, his dizziness and spinning head slowly but surely. He breathed shakily once with his count, exhaling, then breathed in again and then out. He repeated it several times, each with the count Seto was tirelessly providing, adding a new number every few cycles of this until they reached an eight and he could surely breathe in and out in a regular manner.

"Good job… you're alright. You're alright," Seto was repeating in his ear.

He opened his eyes which he had clenched shut tightly some time ago. And he tried again.

He looked straight ahead. He could see each individual hair on the white frieze carpet, the brown-colored tiles, the leg of the coffee table just next to them, the window letting sunlight drift in and the seemingly-endless view of the city stretched outside the window. He felt the roughness of the carpet against his temple, he felt Seto's arm around him, felt the cool, smooth material pressed against his neck and he felt the gentle press of his shirt's fabric against his skin. He could hear his own shaky breaths moving in and out of his chest in a thankfully regular pattern. In contrast, he heard the quiet sound of Seto's. He listened carefully to the occasional reassuring shush he made in his ear. He smelled the familiar sandalwood, champagne and roses scent that the hotel used to freshen the rooms with… he was more grateful to be engulfed by an even more familiar…welcoming scent. The musky base remaining of the perfume had put on in the morning.

And finally… he could taste saltiness in his mouth.

He flinched. He closed his eyes and moved, sucking in a deep shaky breath as his hand rose up to wipe at his face. He pulled it away and looked at it in shock, a low gasp escaping him at the wetness he wiped away. His eyes widened, feeling mortified.

He was crying.

Breath quickening with a fresh wave of panic for entirely different causes now, he tried to draw away from Seto. He didn't know what exactly he was trying to do, but he supposed his first instinct on discovering the tears rushing down his face in this situation was to run away from audience, trying to hide it. it wasn't logical, but he was humiliated to be seen crying like this. It didn't matter that he just had an anxiety attack in front of him. It seemed like topping it all off with this blatant sign of weakness was just inacceptable.

He couldn't move away though.

Sensing him tensing and, as always, reading him like an open book, Seto quickly moved with him, wrapping both his arms around him and pulling him close.

Yami struggled for a few seconds, trying to pull away, but Seto wouldn't let him.

"Shhhh, Yami… calm down. It's alright," he said, once again his tone firm but just an octave or two lower than before.

Yami stopped moving but remained tense, his eyes still closed tightly. He didn't think he was able to stomach the look he was surely going to find on Seto's face. He was weak. He was _weak_! It drove him mad with anger. He couldn't believe that now after so many years… at this age, he was still thrown into attacks of anxiety and fits of tears because someone moved too quickly or words were spoken too loudly. He felt himself shaking again, this time with rage at the humiliation of it all.

Seto's hands were on his own suddenly. His long fingers snaked between his trembling ones. Yami felt him leaning closer and soon, he felt the soft lips that had lulled him to sleep with declarations of love last night…that woke him up the same way today morning, he felt them brushing at the wetness on his face. He held his already erratic breath at the action, his eyes sliding open in shock.

"It's alright…" it was a whisper now. The words collided with his wet skin, raising the hairs on his skin and he blinked. "This is alright, Yami…I'm here. Let it out if and when you want."

The anger bled away sluggishly. It left behind a tired mess. The shock at the tears faded away and he surrendered to them, letting them go for now and worrying about how right or wrong the decision to do so later.

They didn't speak of it after that. They didn't speak of it as Seto helped him up into his room, assisting him with taking off his shoes and letting him crawl into his bed and pulling the covers on him. He spoke nothing more of the topic to him and did exactly what Yami wanted for the moment. He left him curled beneath the covers, alone with his tears and his wounded pride, and didn't say anything of the matter. He didn't mention it at all when he returned to his suite—which Yami realized upon waking was Seto's—to find him still in bed in the now-dark room and looking out of the window.

The day's activities were over, Seto told him in calm, even tones as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down slightly and cocking his head so he could stare directly into Yami's eyes. He asked him if he was feeling better and Yami stayed silent for a few moments, thinking of what to say. Eventually, he decided to nod, adding that he was just feeling a bit exhausted and a tiny bit hungry.

"Let's get room service to send us something to eat. I don't feel up to going anywhere right now," Seto told him. Yami nodded again in agreement, filled with a rush of gratefulness at the way Seto just…understood him.

He sighed as he pulled himself upright in bed, swinging his legs over the side. He sat there in silence as he listened to Seto speaking on the phone in low tones, most probably ordering their food. His mind drifted and he started thinking of all the things he missed by holing up in bed and hiding like he did. He supposed it was a stupid thing to wallow in sorrow over, considering the day's events, but he would rather cling to that than try to think of anything else.

Seto walked into the room once again, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Yami watched him in silence. He had a closed, unreadable expression on his face and he kept silent as he took it off and draped it over the chair in the room. He kept quiet throughout it all, until he entered the bathroom and Yami could hear the shower running.

Yami blinked and looked down at his feet, feeling self conscious and a lot more stupid all of a sudden.

What was he doing? Why was he still here, sitting there being pathetic? Why was he burdening someone else, who clearly didn't sign up for any of his excess baggage, with his problems? There was no wonder Seto was so quiet and glum.

He quietly got up, ignoring the ache in his joints and crookedly put his shoes on. he brushed his hair back from his face, cringing ever-so-slightly at the stickiness that crusted his face uncomfortably. He let himself out quietly, keeping his head down and making his way to his own suite, letting himself in with automatic, disconnected motions.

He took off his clothes, throwing them sloppily wherever they landed and went into the bathroom in just his underwear. He washed his face, avoiding looking into the mirror when a careless glance at it when he first entered the bathroom. He looked frightening, to be honest and he could understand why Seto was acting like he was. There was nothing to be said to this wraith, nothing worth looking at.

He dried his face, digging out a pair of soft cotton pants and he slipped them on. His hand rose up to his hair to free his locks from the hair tie loosely holding them. He cringed slightly, his fingers massaging his hurting scalp and uselessly trying to drive the tension away from his head.

He was just walking back inside his room when loud knocking came at his door.

He considered ignoring it…then decided that that would be just plain rude. Because he knew Seto was on the other side of the door.

He opened the door, looking up at the blue eyes staring down at him. there was a mixture of concern, anger and worry swirling in them and he tiredly asked, "What is it?"

" _What is it_? What _is_ it? You left without even telling me," Seto heatedly said, scowling down at him heavily, the anger growing in his eyes and his words. "Do you even know how many scenarios I've thought of as I came from my room at the end of the hall to yours?"

"I assumed you would figure out I've come here…which you did," Yami dismissively said, leaning on the door's frame.

Seto seethed. "You worried me!"

Yami scowled back, "I apologize. I seem to be doing that quite a lot today, even though I think you are overreacting. Now go back to your own suite, Seto, and stop worrying. I am fine and there is no need to lose your head over it."

He moved to close the door but Seto placed his hand on it, stopping him from doing so.

"What the hell is your problem? Are you crazy?" he snapped.

"If you just came to yell at me outside the door, then I suggest you leave," Yami snapped back, opening the door a slight bit to release Seto's push on it, then pushing it to try and close it once again.

And once again, Seto placed his hand on it as well as his foot. Then, he took a step forward, nudging Yami into the suite once again, taking hold of the door and getting in and closing it behind him. "We're inside now."

"If you are here to yell, inside or outside the door, it's still the same thing, so kindly leave," Yami hissed at him.

"I am not here to yell at you, you idiot! What the hell is the matter with you? Why did you leave, I thought we were going to have dinner together," Seto pressed, the scowl on his face still quite impressive.

Yami ignored him and walked away.

He half expected the brunet to grab him by the arm and physically stop him. He was left with a mixture of unpleasant sensations when that didn't happen, guilt right at the top of it all, especially as he realized how much of a child he was being, as he heard the sharp, long-suffering sound of inhaling of breath Seto made to calm himself down, because apparently, this was exactly what he wanted to do given how irrational Yami was being. Yet, he controlled himself enough to stop himself from doing that.

"I know what you are doing…" it came from behind him with a soft tone that he didn't expect at all.

He turned.

Seto looked as if he was speaking to himself, more than he was speaking to Yami, who stood beside the entrance to his bedroom, ashamed of himself and the way he was acting towards the person least deserving of this treatment.

"I know that this is your reaction to what happened today, to meeting him and what happened afterwards. I know you have some stupid thought that you are in some way or another not allowed to react the way you did. Or at least you think that _I_ think so. And I just want to tell you that you are wrong."

Yami opened his mouth to speak.

"Please Yami…" Seto raised his voice again, cutting him off quite effectively. Yami looked at him in silence, defensively crossing his arms in front of his chest. The brunet stepped closer, adding, "Please…I understand this is difficult for you. And I know that if I had been in your position, I'd turn prickly very quickly. But please…this is not the right time for your goddamn pride to act up."

Yami narrowed his eyes, the words rubbing him the wrong way and his temper flaring again. "Oh? It's not? Well, let me just tell you this isn't pride and you are the one who is wrong. I just don't want to worry you, so please…" he gestured with his hand towards the door, "Just go back to your room, I will let you know when everything's fine again so you won't have to worry ab…"

It was apparent that Seto could not control himself enough not to touch him this time. He raised his hands, wrapping the slender fingers securely around his upper arms, shaking him firmly.

"Why are you denying yourself this right? To have someone to worry for you?"

Yami blinked up at him. His own fingers wrapped around Seto's arm and he was holding on with more force than he was aware of. He kept silent. He felt himself grow distant as the words rang out in his ears. Was he doing that, really?

"Do you still think that I just want you for the fun of it?"

Yami once again opened his mouth for a few moments, contemplating denying it. He thought of saying that that wasn't it at all. That how could Seto say such things to him. but he pursed his lips and stayed silent for a while, averting his eyes from the desperate, angry blue ones.

"This is not it…" he whispered, looking at the edge of one of the armchairs in his room, avoiding the piercing gaze settled on him, reading him so easily, like an open book.

And he decided, that since Seto was just so good at understanding him…he might as well just be honest.

"I really don't want you to worry…" he looked up at him again, a tired expression settling on his face as he added, "You didn't sign up for this…I…" he swallowed thickly against the lump suddenly lodged in the back of his throat, making his voice break embarrassingly. "I…" he tried to speak again. To his mortification, his voice cracked again and a humiliating burn pricked at the corners of his eyes.

He swallowed convulsively once again, taking a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips, physically willing himself not to cry knowing that he was not going to take the humiliation of it happening twice in one day.

Once he was sure he had pulled himself together, at least for the moment, he reopened his eyes and spoke, "This is my problem…I do not want to drag you into it. I will be fine. You've…you've done enough. I don't want you to…" his voice was getting lower with every word he spoke, until he paused…the last bit coming out even lower than a whisper. A mere breath that he let out, the words coming against his conscious will, "I don't want you to get tired of my drama…"

Seto swore under his breath.

Yami stood miserably, looking at his feet after he felt Seto's hands fall away from their hold on him. He hung his head, staring at his bare feet buried in the lush carpet, feeling defeated, tired… he just wanted to curl up and die.

He was contemplating how to get out of this situation when he felt Seto stepping closer to him again. He was just looking up to meet his eyes to see what he wanted from him when he felt himself engulfed within a pair of strong arms, pulled closer to a familiar broad chest and wrapped tightly in the scent that was so uniquely Seto, he instinctively found his tense muscles relaxing after exactly two seconds of freezing up in shock.

The amazed expression lingered in his eyes, however, as he stood there. The sensation was foreign. The feel of arms around him, of a strong shoulder which he could bury his face against, the beating of another human's heart so close to his ear… it was an alien sensation. He could not remember the last time he was held in this context. He could not remember. Sure…he had fallen asleep in Seto's arms yesterday, but that was in the afterglow of sex.

But to be held…frantic, uneasy, scared…unsure like he was at the moment…?

That was new.

Against his will, he felt the vicious lump rising again in his throat and the burn of his eyes returning. He squeezed his eyes shut very tightly. He let out a breath of air when he felt the hotness slipping out of their corners, admitting defeat and losing the battle that he was so desperately fighting. He raised his arms, holding on to Seto's desperately. Now that the tears defeated him, he was letting all of them out, keeping his face buried into Seto's shoulder, hiding it from view.

A pathetic part of him noted that it really was the first time he had a 'shoulder to cry on'. Even during the most desperate times…the darkest of hours during his hospital stay in his fourth year with his arm cut wide open, during the most difficult moments in his residency and the most painful parts of his relationship with Bakura… usually he sat in some dark corner by himself, licking his own wounds privately and if he cried, he would make sure no one saw it. He and Yugi were raised disconnected from physical touch and emotional support. They grew up with the idea that men didn't cry drilled into their heads so deeply, it was a shame to do so. They knew that if it happened, no one must know. And if it happened, then they should not bother anyone with their whining, their weakness.

And as with everything Seto did… he destroyed these concepts. Concepts that have been deeply rooted in him that they became an integral part of who…what he is. They were all brought to rubble at his feet, leaving him shocked and confused.

He felt one of the familiar hands rising to the back of his head, the arm still wrapped around him tightening, pulling him closer. His chest felt tight, but not like before. It was a good sensation for a change. He gasped once, savoring the sensation, opening his eyes and blinking the remainder of his tears away.

He felt calmer. Better. He melted against the body before him, breathing deeply and regularly, knowing that the worst of it was now over and there were no more breakdowns coming on soon.

It seemed like Seto felt the same way. He spoke.

"This is _our_ problem now…"

Yami stepped back a fraction and looked up at him. He could feel the shock drawn clear on his features.

"I will not get tired of your drama, as you call it." Determined, sure. Firm. Yami stared up at him, stunned. "Do not think, for one second, that anything you will tell me, show me… will ever make me tired of you. I am not a child, Yami. Nor am I a coward. You are not a doll to be played with and kept away. Please do not think of yourself that way…"

"I don't…" Yami started protesting.

Seto shook his head, "Telling me that this isn't what I signed up for is either saying that I am using you for sex and good times, then putting you away, or saying that you are undeserving of someone to stand with you when you need them to. And since you said that it wasn't the first…then it must be the second."

He raised a hand to Yami's wet face, wiping away the moisture there carefully and tenderly. He leaned forward, placing his lips on his forehead for a few seconds in which Yami felt his heart stopping, then moved back.

"I'm here, Yami… and I want you. Fantastic blowjobs and excess baggage as you call it. I want it all."

He smiled at the naughty expression playing around in Seto's eyes. A watery smile that he was sure that if he looked in the mirror at any other moments other than now, he would probably shrivel up with embarrassment at the way his face was tear-streaked, his nose running and his general look quite pathetic.

But for now…?

For now he pushed all of those thoughts to the back of his mind, his smile turning grateful, wider, easier…and he leaned forward again, letting Seto once again pull him into his arms and letting the last worries for the frankly horrible day fade.

tbc...

* * *

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemon ahead. :D *evil little smile*

Slowly, the depressing mood that settled over them faded over the next day. Before they slept, Seto had called the reception, asking them to send the food he ordered to Yami's suite instead and they ate, Seto forcing Yami to do it even if whatever he placed in his mouth, no matter how delicious, tasted like ash on his tongue. They had gone to bed in silence, Seto wrapping around him tightly and telling him to sleep. Having slept for most of the day, Yami didn't think he could do it at first. But he was pleasantly surprised to feel his eyes growing heavier, lulled into slumber by the strong, sure sound of Seto's heart beating beneath his ear.

He woke up to the Seto spooned behind him still. He seemed to have been awake for a while; the brunet was playing with his hair gently, every once in a while placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. Yami kept his eyes closed and his body relaxed—something he found to be very easy. He stayed still, letting Seto's fingers brush through his locks, feeling his lips on his neck, the edge of his hairline… that spot right behind his ear.

And it was at that moment that he tensed. Against his will. He realized that Seto was kissing all the scars he could see on his skin from his position. His eyes flew open and he spoke Seto's name.

He was greeted good morning. Then left with a sudden coolness behind him as Seto got up. He said he was going to his room to shower and change and Yami blinked dumbly, still missing the warmth Seto's body had been providing, that he stayed silent even as Seto stood for a few moments by the exit of the bedroom area, waiting for his response. He only regained control of himself after the door was opened and closed once again, indicating Seto's departure from the suite.

He remained in place for a few moments, wondering what he should do. His hands fisted in the covers for a bit, then he pushed himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting up quickly. As he collected a change of clothes, his mind thought of the weirdest thing, that he was lucky he wasn't one of the people who had postural hypotension and got dizzy getting up too quick. He would have had a very different problem on his hands if that was the case.

He knocked quickly on the door to Seto's suite. There was no answer for a few moments, in which he grew impatient and started knocking edgily once again, until the door swung open while he still had his hand raised to continue the eager taps on the wood. Seto stared down at him questioningly.

Yami smiled sheepishly.

"You mentioned a blowjob yesterday?"

Seto's questioning look turned into a smile and he stepped back, letting him in.

After a shower that took far too long, Seto's legs were still a bit shaky after Yami was done with him. He promised, with a very serious look on his face, that he would pay Yami back tenfold for teasing him for too long that morning. Yami, pleased with the effect of his ministrations, told him to walk straight first before throwing promises at him.

Carefully they avoided prickly details of the previous day, Yami asking nonchalantly about the activities he missed out on for the conference, Seto explaining that the day mostly passed as a series of lectures, discussions and small workshops. He cringed slightly when he realized he missed the discussion comparing ultrasound and CT effectiveness that he wanted to attend. Seto noticed this and smiled, telling him he recorded the entire thing for him and asked the author of the paper for a meeting later on during the day.

That awarded him a kiss from Yami as they stood by the door. They stood for a long while, Yami trapping him up against the wall, leaning his weight half on Seto's chest, half on the wall which he propped against using his arm. Slowly, he explored the brunet's mouth with his own, enjoying the slow mingle of their tongues lazily against each other; desperate, as though trying to breathe in each other.

Only the fact that it was a little past nine-fifteen in the morning and that if they didn't get a move on right now, they would have to go without coffee or breakfast until the first lunch break, broke them apart. They took the elevator down to the lobby where they took their breakfast, Yami finding his appetite returning to normal and he sat arranging the smoked beef on top of his toast, eating one slow bite after another while Seto dug in with gusto. Yami watched him in silence, by now too used to the wonder that surged through him as to where all the food went.

Once or twice throughout the day's events, he saw a flash of white hair. His eyes would harden and he would look away.

It wasn't very difficult to do so. He met other people he had met on his travels before; a retired Italian that had accepted his meeting in the first conference he went on after he left Egypt; he looked so old now, Yami offered his arm for him to lean on as they walked towards the lobby during the coffee break. There was an Egyptian surgeon, two years older than him, that he had met four years ago in the UK. He was now living in Canada with his wife and children. Expectedly, he asked if Yami settled down and Yami supposed that the urge to see everyone 'settled down' was so deeply inherent in the Egyptian genome that everyone simply had to ask that question. He also met a beautiful young woman who was a student when he had obtained his first PhD. She was now preparing her own degree and sat discussing the protocol for it with him.

The day passed very peacefully, compared to the one before it.

Seto was displeased when once again, they finished the day's activities too tired for sight-seeing. Yami kept reassuring him that he wasn't too upset about it. They still had time. He quickly asked where Seto wanted to spend tonight and suggested they went to his suite as they spent the night in Yami's for the past two days.

The brunet quickly abandoned his grump about not being able to go out at the implication of Yami's words. They were on each other even before Seto could dig out his keycard. He actually didn't. he was too busy burying his hands inside Yami's pants, leaving him to fumble for the card, clumsily dragging it through the slot, failing to get it right a few times. He turned around, Seto protesting for a few moments, but then deciding to lavish the back of his neck with little nips and kisses as he turned the keycard right way up and letting them tumble into the room, where the brunet was already tugging his clothes off.

He was pushed onto the bed, landing there with a surprised 'oomph' that Seto chuckled darkly at. His blue eyes were now almost black with how blown his pupils were.

"Strip…"

Yami shuddered, especially at the monosyllabic order Seto spoke and the way he stood in front of him, watching him like a hawk as he did so until he was lying naked on the soft sheets, his clothes strewn on the floor beside the bed. Seto was unbuttoning his own shirt lazily, eyes still fixed on him, a tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

"Touch yourself…"

Heat pooled into his groin and he almost groaned. He bit his lower lip to stifle any sounds that might break out of his mouth, automatically as if he was programmed to obey Seto's commands without argument. He was already hard and aching. Seto's tone was even, _familiar_. Yami's toes curled and once again he almost groaned, realizing that Seto issued his commands as easily as ordering him to apply the cautery in a surgery, or fix the laparoscope's camera, or even asking for a pair of forceps. Heat rushed through him as he realized that he was never going to forget that thought whenever they stood together in an OR.

Every touch was heightened to unbearable levels with the weight of Seto's appreciative gaze on him. He never knew he had an exhibitionistic streak in him, but as he lay there, shuddering with desire under Seto's intense blue eyes, he felt himself writhing with pleasure increased a hundred-fold under the present circumstances.

"Slow down," Seto issued another command and he obeyed.

He kept his eyes fixed on the glorious sight Seto made before his half-lidded eyes. The dim yellow lights of the room were casting shadows on the planes of Seto's torso on display from the shirt that hung on his shoulders. He was unbuckling his own belt, slipping his pants off. Every move he made turned Yami on further and he closed his eyes, feeling himself rushing quicker towards his orgasm.

He felt the bed dipping beside him. He opened his eyes and within moments, Seto's hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling it away from his body.

"Let me take things from here…" he told him in the same easy tone and Yami stared up at his glittering blue eyes, allowing their owner to grab his other hand and raise both his arms above his head, pinning them securely above it then leaned down and kissed him. Yami kissed him back eagerly, raising his hips convulsively trying to seek the pleasure that was now gone. "Behave," Seto tapped him twice on his hip, where his thigh met his abdomen and immediately, his hips stilled.

He kept still, obeying Seto's non verbal command to keep his hands above his head as he grabbed the bottle of lube that was lying inside the drawer beside the bed. A moment later, Yami felt the cold, slick substance landing on his heated skin, making him gasp slightly. Seto's hand held his wrists again, his other hand starting to stroke him once again. He moaned softly at the sensation, especially as Seto's hand somehow felt so much better than his own. Usually the rule of 'you want to do something right, do it yourself' applied to pleasuring himself, but in this case? Seto seemed to know exactly where to touch him, the right pressure to apply to his skin, where to rub…where to drive him insane.

And insanity seemed to be what Seto had in mind for him tonight. Just as he was about to reach his orgasm, he abandoned his hard flesh, leaning down to bite gently on a nipple, tease the hollow at the base of his neck, slip just one finger through his entrance and keeping it hovering teasingly right at the rim until he was keening with frustration. And then, he would apply more lubricant and start all over again.

Over and over, he was brought to the very edge of the peak of his pleasure, before being denied. Seto focused his attention on all his erogenous spots. His nipples were glistening in the faint light, bitten and teased to hard little points rising to attention as if begging for more abuse which Seto obliged them again and again, until Yami felt himself crying with the intensity of it all. The single finger that slipped into him wasn't enough. He needed more. Something thicker, something that could reach deeper within him to properly and thoroughly grind into the spot of nerve-rich tissue under which his prostate lay, which Seto only occasionally brushed, apparently not wanting him to climax by stimulating it.

His thighs had fallen open, quivering with tension and feelings that overwhelmed him. he could feel sweat pooling in the dips of his body; the hollow spot between his clavicles, a drop of sweat running between his pectorals… liquid pooling inside his belly button and the spot right above his pubic bone, joining the clear fluid that had leaked out of the tip of his aching sex.

His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his face buried into his upper arm. He could feel his hair sticking to his forehead, falling into his eyes. He was panting nonstop now, a sob occasionally leaving his lips unchecked and he didn't care at all by this point to try and prevent himself from making any sounds.

There was a change in pattern. Seto leaned closer, trailing the length of his neck with little nips and nibbles, before stopping right next to his ear, where he whispered, "You can beg me to let you come now…"

Yami's eyes flew open. Through the haze of tears, he could see the evil little smirk playing on Seto's gorgeous lips and the glint in his eyes.

He narrowed his own eyes. "Dream on, Kaiba…"

Silly… very silly, indeed. Pride and stubbornness were the ones talking here, he knew that. He mentally screamed at himself, feeling the pleasure churning within him turning into a delicious ache that was simply too extreme for him to bear any longer. But the words had already come out.

Seto chuckled and moved back. He let go of Yami's arms, but, enjoying this game far too much, Yami did not lower them or try to touch himself in any way. Instead, he watched Seto raising the condom foil to his lips, carefully tearing it open at the edge and rolling it onto his own member with ease. Yami watched him as he leaned down once again to pin his arms in place, his other arm hooking under his knee, bending it as he positioned himself at his entrance and pushed inside with the same sense of surety he employed with everything he did.

Yami accepted him with a quick, sharp intake of breath. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sensation again and unwillingly pushed another tear from the corner of his eye. A moment after, in which Seto sank deeper within him, he felt the little droplet being kissed away. He once again felt Seto lips next to his ear, repeating, "Beg me, Yami…"

He was about to flat out refuse once again. But at that moment, Seto drew back just a fraction, then sank into him once again after adjusting his angle to point upwards just slightly. Whatever coherent thought he had was lost in a howl of bliss as the head of Seto's erection directly pressed against that hidden spot within him.

He bit his lip, his hands clenching convulsively and his hips rising spastically to try and seek any friction against his weeping sex. There was nothing to be had, however, Seto raising his knee, wrapping his leg around his waist and avoiding any and all contact that could give the slightest bit of attention to the region of his anatomy that needed it most.

Relentlessly, he pulled out, then sank back inside. His rhythm was slow, teasing…maddening. Yami was being driven crazy slowly. His mouth had fallen open in a silent gasp which the sensations had silenced and he could do nothing except staying docile at Seto's mercy, unable to do anything except lie there and take it.

"Beg, Yami…" Seto was once again telling him, kissing his neck, trailing hot lips downwards and stopping at his nipple, taking it into his mouth and dragging his tongue slowly over it.

The shock-like feeling that shot through him seemed to bring back his voice.

"Please, Seto!" he gasped, writhing and straining underneath Seto's frame and he couldn't tell if he was trying to escape the maddening stimulus or trying to get more of it.

At his words, Seto moved back, pulling at his knee further upwards and starting to shove into him without restraint. With each stroke into him, each pulverizing shove against his prostate, light burst at the corners of his vision. He wanted to close his eyes, but he enjoyed the sight of Seto's gleaming body above him, broad shoulders glistening in the dim lights, muscles rippling powerfully beneath milky-white skin. His arms were finally released, Seto's hand now free to reach for his dripping sex to stroke at it gently.

Too gently.

He sobbed, fists bunching in the sheets above his head and he bucked his hips urgently. "More, Seto… _fuck_! Please!" he howled desperately.

Seto ignored him at first, keeping up the too-soft stimulus. His hips were moving faster, though and it was the only thing that distracted Yami from his demands. Only when Seto's hips started faltering, did his hand start applying more pressure, fingers dragging over the sensitive, weeping head.

Two strokes later and Yami felt his vision darkening as his orgasm was ripped from him powerfully, spilling his seed all over Seto's hand, on his own chest and stomach and leaving him in a state that wasn't exactly unconsciousness… but wasn't complete awareness of his surroundings either. He could feel Seto reaching completion within him, collapsing on top of him panting and breathless…but he couldn't move. His eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, lips and tongue dry with his own panting breaths.

He stayed where he was. Limp, unmoving. Seto was gone for a period of time that he didn't know how long it was, exactly. He came back with a damp cloth that he passed along Yami's forehead and the side of his face and his neck. He then used it to wipe them both clean. Yami pulled himself out of the trance he had passed into when he felt his head supported up slightly and the press of a water bottle against his dry lips. He straightened slightly, leaning against Seto's frame as he sipped at the water.

A gentle smile was on Seto's lips when he looked up. He returned it, tiredly leaning against him as they settled back into bed, properly this time. He wrapped his arms around Seto's waist and closed his eyes.

He could feel sensations stirring within his chest. It was a bit like falling from height, minus the unpleasantness of it and plus another giddy feeling that made his insides flutter. Just before he fell asleep, he made a realization. He knew what that stirring of emotion that Seto inspired within him was.

It was love.

* * *

 

Seto had already come to the same realization he did.

He did, after all, verbally announce it twice to him—three times actually, but one of them was in joking context so Yami set it aside for now. Both times, he hadn't offered a response. He wondered why Seto did not bring it up. It wasn't like him, not to demand answers whenever he needed them. Both times had been after they spent themselves in each other's arms. Yami supposed it was the endorphins speaking in the brilliant afterglow of their lovemaking. It was understandable. The sex they had was phenomenal, the satiety coming after it no less impressive. It was understandable that after being the source of such pleasure, they would feel very affectionate towards each other.

A little niggling part of him was admonishing this train of thought severely. It felt wrong. He knew that he was belittling something monumental with his doubts, with the base and frankly demeaning way he thought of those two little declarations to which he said nothing. He supposed it was the final struggle against how he was pulled relentlessly beneath the undertow of this relationship. It was too late, he knew that already. He was already in too deep, too attached, ready to answer Seto's proclamations of love. Out of habit, though, he was sorting through all the possible worst case scenarios first.

Verbally, Seto said it twice. Non-verbally… Yami cringed slightly to himself, recalling all the times Seto was just model partner material. Starting with the way he vehemently, patiently kept chasing his uptight and frankly unreasonable rejections until he wormed his way against his will into his heart. Then, there was all the situations that he was so accustomed to facing alone and Seto just trudged his way over to his side, carelessly brushing aside misconceptions that he should and must face everything by himself. And finally… the understanding that anyone else would not have been so gracious to offer, learning of the frankly shit state of his mind, all his character flaws and fallacies of judgment and the emotional rollercoaster he dragged around wherever he went.

Seto had said he loved him many times before and not just twice.

He didn't know what to do. He understood the panic. He understood why he felt like running away, suddenly, faced with all of this. And he supposed that with anyone else, he would have done exactly that. After all, he did it once before with his Luxembourger lover. At the first sign of sincerity, sex aside and good times aside, he had abandoned ship, leaving behind a very nice young man who was heartbroken, confused and angry because he was simply trying to help his lover.

With Seto it was different. He had willingly opened up, shared everything with him. He was now suffering through the panic, but didn't think he would be able to do to Seto what he did to Cimon all those years back.

And so…he decided to maintain the status quo.

He woke up the next day as usual, now too used to Seto's presence in his bed. They had gone down for breakfast as they did every day since they arrived in Tokyo, nibbled on toast while watching Seto eat and marveling at the warmth spreading through him at watching that simple, base action. He surrendered to the sensations, sipping calmly at his coffee and offering sassy comebacks to his lover's dirty jokes.

He didn't mention anything of the turmoil giving him a headache even before the day started.

It was almost enough to make him forget that he was in the same building as his ex-lover. He was harshly reminded of that fact as he sat in one of the rooms designed for workshops after one of the OCs told him that someone was requesting a meeting to discuss a previous paper of his. He had told Seto that he would meet him in the lobby for coffee and departed to the room, sitting and waiting for his visitor.

The door opened, Bakura walked in and closed it behind him.

"Hello," he greeted.

Yami, sensing the surprise that he was feeling crawling unchecked on his face and angry that Bakura could see it so clearly, scowled. His scowl deepened especially as he realized the Arabic with which he spoke, the language forced on him again reminding him of all the things he'd rather leave behind.

"What do you want, Bakura?" he snapped, crossing his arms in front of his chest and keeping his eyes fixed on the white-haired man who approached the seat right in front of him.

Bakura sat down, smiling at him. "So unfriendly, Yami… you've changed."

"You have no idea," Yami flatly countered.

"Now don't be like that," Bakura said, his smile faltering just a little bit. Yami's scowl remained. "We've parted on very bad terms. It makes me sad."

Yami raised an eyebrow at him.

"I thought I'd request a meeting so we could catch up without anyone interrupting," Bakura slyly said.

"I do not feel like catching up, Bakura. I will repeat my question, what do you want?" Yami snapped. His courage was borrowed and he was running out swiftly. "And if you have simply come to catch up, then I will excuse myself. I have better things to be doing."

"Can't keep _Seto_ waiting, can you…?"

Yami squeezed at his upper arm with his hand where he had his arms crossed. The scowl was still fixed on his features, his gaze cold, unfazed. He knew that Bakura was perceptive. He knew that there was a very huge chance that after Seto's appearance two days ago in the lobby's coffee shop, the way he drank from his cup so leisurely, defended him so vehemently, Bakura would make the connection that perhaps they were more than just co-authors on a thesis. He needed to remain impassive.

"Pretty thing, isn't he?"

Yami resolutely stayed silent.

"He has lovely eyes," Bakura resumed, sitting back in his chair, leaning his head on his hand while staring directly at Yami. An amused smile was on his face, his words coming out in a thoughtful tone. "Looks like he walked out of a movie, to be honest. He's a nice catch. I have no idea how you managed to seduce him, you always were just a little boring. With those blue eyes and that ripped body… I wonder what exactly did you do to get him into your bed, much less making him so willing to let you mark his neck the way it was day before yesterday. I suppose we all have our kinks. Didn't think the famous Seto Kaiba would let anyone just drive him around like a…"

Yami slammed his palm down on the surface of the table they were seated at, making a bang loud enough to silence his ex-lover's derogatory speech. He was on his feet. He was shaking with rage.

"You can shut up right now, Bakura. I won't let the likes of you speak of him that way," he hissed in anger.

Bakura dragged his shocked brown eyes from Yami's hand that made such a loud slamming sound, then looked up to meet his irate eyes. The shock disappeared gradually, leaving behind another one of those unnerving smiles.

"You have ignored what I said about you, yet you couldn't stomach a single insult at Kaiba…?" he was speaking as if to himself.

His smile widened, a hand rising to his chin thoughtfully. The very same hand suddenly extended and, in an action similar to the one he did day before yesterday, he reached for Yami's neck. Yami didn't even have time to react. The all too familiar hand touched his neck, the long fingers wrapping around it with ease. Yami felt his heart jumping and unconsciously, he whimpered, trying belatedly to draw back and away from the familiar hands, but as expected, Bakura's hand stiffened on the back of his neck, pinning him securely in place, his thumb settling unnervingly on the spot in front, pressing firmly enough to partially block his airway.

He swallowed in fear, all bravado provided by the anger at the way Seto was spoken of evaporating as he was faced with a situation he spent years convincing himself he would never find himself in again. He stiffened, feeling small and insignificant. Feeling as though he was once again, back in a stuffy, dirty locker room with Bakura looming over him with mad anger in his brown eyes, without an escape and without any options except enduring the pain that was about to be dealt to him.

"You've been letting him have you, Yami… I have suspected ever since he came to your help that day," he was saying, still holding him in place.

Yami's entire body was stiff as a board, his nostrils invaded by the natural scent Bakura let out all around him that hadn't changed except very subtly over the years. He felt nauseous and faint with fear and anger.

"Is he any good, though?"

He stubbornly ignored the question, moving back once again and this time, making sure to use more of his strength. He needed to get away as quickly as possible.

Bakura held on tighter and he was forced to stop struggling or risk a serious injury to his trachea. Bakura's excellent knowledge of anatomy which he had passed on to him, never faded. He knew exactly where to hold him and Yami wasn't about to risk the pain he knew would come if he moved more than this.

"Don't you miss me Yami? Just a little bit?"

At those words, however, his eyes narrowed and, not even thinking of the consequences of his actions, stopped trying to move back, placing both his hands at the white-haired man's chest and pushing him back aggressively, grateful when he successfully dislodged the hand wrapped around his neck and removing his ex-lover out of his personal space.

"You disgust me," he spat at him venomously, turning around and heading towards the door.

It was a mistake to turn his back on Bakura.

He was almost at the door, when he was grabbed by the upper arm and jerked around to face Bakura once again. In an all too familiar action, Yami saw everything happening in slow motion, as if part of a flashback being played in black and white before his eyes and he had no other option other than remaining stuck in place, watching it unfold. He saw the familiar hand rising, descending once again with the back of it towards him… landing without hesitation, without the least bit of compassion on the side of his face.

He gasped only when he found that Bakura had jerked him back powerfully, preventing his descent to the ground with the force of the blow. A moment of numbness passed, in which he had been shocked into silence, before he found his voice once more with that shocked gasp that escaped him, followed by heat and a throbbing pain springing along the side of his face.

The only thing preventing him from crumbling to the floor was Bakura's powerful pull on his arm with one of his hands while the other buried its fingers into his hair with practiced ease that tore a whimper of fear from him.

His hand rose to his hair, holding on to Bakura's wrist tightly, pulling at it and trying to extricate his hair from his fingers, especially as he felt a few strands coming loose with the force the white-haired man was using. His eyes were burning horribly as he looked up to meet the sadistic brown eyes he knew too well. there was a familiar fire in them that made his stomach turn sickeningly. It was a look that starred in all his nightmares for all the years that passed. And here it was, materialized solid and real in front of him, the sensations its owner giving him not one bit different from before.

"You've grown some claws, Yami…" Bakura was saying. Yami was sure that he had a comeback to that. But for some reason, his mind was fuzzy, the burn along the side of his face increasing tenfold and even if he could ignore all those unpleasant sensations, he felt his head jerked around once again for good measure, his former lover adding, "But we both know that you are nothing more than my bitch, Yami… you know I am the one who can control that little defiant streak of yours. Don't you ever forget that…"

Yami whimpered, clawing at the wrist holding his head securely. "Let me go…" he whispered, not trusting his voice enough to raise it higher than that.

Bakura stared for a while longer at him that seemed longer than an eternity. Then he pushed him away. Instinctively, Yami's arms rose to protect his head as he collided with the wall with the force of the push.

"So is he that good? You've forgotten all about me… all about the good times we had together. You think you are better now…but I know everything about you. How pathetic you are…" Bakura was saying, standing above him with his arms crossed, staring impassively at his collapsed form and Yami didn't need to look up to know he was staring down at him haughtily. He did, anyway, blinking at the burning sensation in his right eye.

The disdainful look in Bakura's eyes, his words… woke his anger once again. He scowled up at him, defiant and knowing that there was nothing more to be lost now. Bakura couldn't dish out more at him than what he already endured at his hands, be it today or years ago.

"Yes, actually… he is that good. He is great. Unlike you, he isn't a caveman without finesse," he grunted out.

The kick he received to his stomach for his impertinence was almost anticlimactic with its inevitability. He curled up by the wall, groaning in pain and trying to ride the waves of it out by breathing evenly through his nose.

Bakura was clucking his tongue in annoyance. "Years after and you piss me off so much, Yami…" he said.

Yami felt like chuckling and he would have if it wasn't for the sickness threatening to make him lose his meager breakfast. He tried not to move much, not to aggravate the stabbing like pain in his stomach.

"You always say the wrong thing and I just…have to hurt you."

Yami rolled his eyes at the practiced excuse.

He was about to make his opinion on the matter known, when Bakura bent down on one knee beside him to speak to him again.

"You think so highly of your new rich boyfriend, Yami… I hate to break your delicate heart, but eventually, this relationship will fail," he was saying. Yami stared up at him, the surety in his voice forcing him to try and seek the reasoning behind it. "First of all… did he tell you that he and I had a nice little chat day before yesterday?"

Yami blinked.

"W…What?"

Bakura smirked, raising one hand to trail over the side of his face that wasn't quickly swelling in response to the blow he had received just minutes ago.

"So he didn't tell you how I told him how I've ruined you for other men… that you can no longer have a proper relationship without running away because you know… you know that no one but me can give you the loving you deserve, Yami."

Shock was spreading onto his face, he could feel it. Shock and betrayal. The sick feeling in his stomach was rising as bile to the back of his throat as he tried to comprehend what else Bakura might have told Seto… and how.

Bakura was chuckling, understanding him too well.

"I told him all about the time you came bawling your eyes out to me, begging me to take you back. I told him about all the times I made you cry in the locker rooms, how pathetic a sight you'd make, how we would heap you with surgery lists and dirty errands that you shouldered for the first few years of your residency without complaining… that you must be the same now, years later…"

Against his will, a very different kind of burn sprung in the corners of his eyes. He could feel himself flushing with humiliation, trying to imagine what Seto thought of him as he listened to those words. A hopeful part of him supplied that…for sure, Seto must have defended him…? Surely…?

Once again, as if reading his mind, Bakura chuckled. "I am just comparing your violent reaction to me speaking ill of him to his response when he heard me say all those things about you. I do wonder if your strong feelings for him are reciprocated, Yami…?"

Yami blankly looked up at him, the niggle of doubt exploding into a flood that drowned all other rational thought. He focused his entire attention on Bakura, listening to every word and clinging to it. Unable to do anything else.

"You think I'm here to try and take your sorry ass back, Yami… and while it is very tempting to get you writhing beneath me again, I hate to say that I am here as a messenger, Yami…nothing more," Bakura spoke once again. Yami looked up at him blindly, gaze swimming behind tears. He registered the sympathetic look in the brown eyes as the white-haired man added, "Pegasus Crawford has been a contact of mine."

Yami blinked. He could feel a hot trail traveling down his face. He pushed himself upright slightly, straightening to listen.

"He's been telling me about your intradepartmental politics… some gossip. He told me Kaiba was trying his hardest to secure one last vote for him in the elections coming up."

Yami felt a sudden chill running up his spine. His eyes widened.

"He told me that he was restlessly seducing you ever since you arrived…"

The words were ringing in his ears like thunder, mingling with the sound of his heartbeat racing sickeningly. His head spun. He felt sick.

"He said that he treats all of his relationships the way he treated business deals back in the day. Mutual benefits, nothing more and nothing less. He dated a German multibillionaire who was the supplier for the prototypes of robotic surgeries that he used for his practical work on a paper which got published in a very renowned journal… a more advanced version of the Da Vinci Robot and he was the very first person to use in trauma surgeries."

Yami sat up, his back against the wall, pushing against it as if trying to become one with it, disappear and leave everything behind. The awful words, the awful realization coming with them.

"And before that, he dated his superior's sister. Managed to get him to approve his PhD discussion earlier than expected."

Yami squeezed his eyes shut, his hand rising to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming like he felt like doing at that moment.

Bakura wasn't done, though…

"And right after graduating, he dated the daughter of the dean of one of Japan's most prestigious teaching hospitals. And from that, he got his name onto the match-day list, even though he still had a whole year left in his training program to complete."

Yami opened his eyes. Defeated, he leaned it back against the wall, not even bothering to resist the tears that ran down his face at the words he had no choice but to sit and listen to.

"He's using you, Yami…to become the youngest head of department in Japan…"

tbc…

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am /SO/ sorry T_T


	18. Chapter 18

Seto found him still curled up by the wall some time later.

He wasn't sure how long had passed. Bakura had kissed the top of his tousled head, sending shivers down his spine, then left him. The sound of the door closing after his departure seemed to echo forever off the walls of the small room. He didn't move. He didn't think he _could_ move. He remained where he was, legs uselessly bent beneath him, back against the wall and head hanging down so his hair –now almost completely undone from the tie that held it up into a ponytail—shadowed his face.

He sat detached, numb. His will to even breathe at the moment seemed to have left him and he wished he could just become one with the wall, insignificant, or perhaps curl up and die. He was crying. He didn't know if it was the delayed shock of Bakura's violence or if it was the response to his words or just anger at the feeling of stupidity that was washing over him in waves. He had forgotten that he told Seto he would meet him in the lobby.

It was how he found him.

There were hurried knocks on the door for a few moments. He ignored them. He sat in the same position until someone was pulling at him, calling his name with a worried, shocked tone of voice.

He blinked and looked up. Seto was crouched down in front of him. Yami stared with an empty expression at him, all of Bakura's words coming back to him, one after the other. He wanted to ask so many questions and voice so many thoughts all at once. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and he felt paralyzed. He ended up staying silent as he stared back at him, quiet.

A distant part of his mind detachedly noted the horror in the blue eyes. It was a new expression that he never saw before and he wondered what brought it on.

A few seconds later, he found out. Seto raised his hand to his face. Yami flinched slightly, but he continued undeterred, holding Yami's face up by the chin with one hand, the other positioned on his eyebrow, pulling it up with his thumb slightly, brushing an area above his eyelid for a moment, then coming away to reveal the unmistakable redness of blood and increasing the burn he had been feeling in the area tenfold.

He cringed, pulling away from the painful touch.

"What happened! Who did this?" Seto asked. Demanded.

Yami stayed silent.

"Yami, _what happened_?" he repeated the question firmly, snapping something at a stranger standing behind him. Something about some water, a napkin or a tissue…

Yami didn't say anything until Seto turned back to him. Once again, his hands were on him, gently shaking him slightly.

Yami blinked and forced himself to respond. This was familiar. This was a situation he found himself in many times before. He could do this. He straightened slightly, pushing away from the wall. Seto helped him, once more repeating his question, asking what happened, who did this…

He thought of telling him what happened. He thought of being honest, like he usually was with whatever Seto asked him. He thought of explaining, or perhaps asking for explanations. But he didn't have the courage or the energy to deal with all of that right now.

And so, he did something practiced and familiar. Replied with an answer that rolled off his tongue with ease and fluency.

"I fell."

He closed himself off from anything else after that. He knew that if he tried saying anything else, the shock of having to use this excuse again would send him tumbling into an embarrassing fit of tears or hysterics and he couldn't stomach that thought right now. He was aware of Seto not buying it. He was aware of the suspicious, angry look on Seto's features. The recognition in the blue eyes at the reason he gave for his injury, the implication of Yami using it with him. He didn't press for any other explanations for now, however. He was too busy arguing that they should go to a hospital but Yami refused, speaking once only since his 'I fell' phrase to firmly say 'no' to Seto's suggestion.

He stood washing the blood off his face in the hotel's bathroom, examining the damage as Seto stood behind him fighting him about it. He ignored him, looking closely at the tiny cut on the tiny area right above the outer corner of his eye and just beneath the end of his eyebrow. It was very small, but he knew the area was highly vascular and that was why the entire side of his face and down to the collar of his shirt was drenched in blood that was drying to a disgusting brownish crust, except for the areas where the slowing flow of blood was still trailing. He knew that within hours, the entire area would be a myriad of black, blue, green and yellow, blending into the pale, sallow skin.

He detached himself from his companion, leaving him to rave and rant and cajole him into going to a hospital. He didn't want to go anywhere or do anything other than returning back to his room to lock himself there and rest for a while, then waking up to pack his things and booking an early flight back to Domino. This entire conference had been a bad idea and the very opposite of any positive thoughts he had about it at first.

He strode with steady steps towards the elevators, holding a tissue tightly to his eye, hoping that the pressure would be enough to slow down the bleeding until he reached his room to make use of the ice-maker sitting in the bar. Seto was following him, desperation painting his words now, asking him to at least speak to him, say something.

Yami turned around just as they stopped in front of the elevators. Without even knowing how and why, he calmly spoke. His voice was low, his gaze steady and his tone sure. He had no idea where he got this composure as he talked.

"I need to be alone for a few hours please."

Seto took a small step back. His hands settled by his side and he looked like he was trying hard not to look hurt and failing miserably. He looked like he wanted to argue, or perhaps ask him something, but decided to purse his lips, nod abruptly and turn around to walk away.

Yami turned back as well, closing his eyes for a few moments and breathing away the ache that was maddeningly reverberating through his chest and the nausea rolling through him ever since Bakura left him. He got into the elevator, reached his floor and entered his room. He made an icepack with frightening ease, placing it on his injured face, sucking in a deep breath at the familiar sting that he couldn't ever get used to.

He sat for hours in front of the window. His legs were tucked beneath him on the armchair, eyes staring unseeingly at the Tokyo skyline. He sat sorting through things with difficulty.

His thoughts were jumbled, jumping between defending the lover who proved himself time and again to him and the self-doubt that ate at him, bringing back all the insecurities Seto had laid to rest ages ago, but Bakura reawakened with the information he told him.

Bakura wasn't exactly someone he trusted so much that he took his words for face value. He was manipulative, evil and a bad person, in general. And Yami wasn't an idiot to believe that Bakura was just there 'as a messenger' as he so politely described it. He wasn't giving this information out of the goodness of his heart… or for Yami's sake, trying to protect him or anything. He knew that Bakura's motives weren't noble.

But on the other hand…

He forced himself to think with another perspective and that was when things really started making sense, somewhat.

Everything suddenly fit into place. Seto's mysterious interest in him the second he started work, the patience he treated him with and the frankly baffling way with which he had the right thing to say, the correct thing to do around him. The way he dealt with his shit mental state and the shit attitude he, Yami, was known for. He knew that he was a difficult person. Prickly and strange and aggressive. And too plain in every other aspect to compensate for these eccentricities. Seto's patience was strange. The effort he put into trying to 'court him' as he was so fond of calling it, was phenomenal.

The thought came back to him.

No one went to such measures to lure someone into their bed.

But for securing a position as head of a surgery department as prestigious as theirs? And years younger than usual?

People went farther than that, even.

A small part niggled at him, wondering if Jou was in on this. Then he admonished himself, horrified that he was already taking Bakura's words for face value, already treating them as the truth. But if they really weren't the truth… why else would Seto have started flirting with him the moment he arrived? He had to be objective and slow down a little, detaching himself from the heady rush of falling head over heels for him and wonder about the strangeness that even before having a full proper conversation, Seto had started flirting with him. It was very strange and Yami had pinned it on the rumors he heard of the brunet, letting it pass without second thought.

But now that he thought of it, it was a bit strange.

His thoughts were still in a mess when there was hurried knocks at his door. He looked at the entrance to the suite, but stayed where he was. He glanced down at his watch, noting with the slight surprise that his current mental state allowed him, that it was past ten-thirty at night.

The rapid sequence of knocks came once again, this time more urgent than the one before it.

He sighed and got up. He opened the door and walked back to sit in his place on the armchair, letting Seto get inside and shut the door behind him. he wasn't sure why he did that. He didn't have anything to say to Seto right now, to be honest. He didn't imagine how whatever it is Seto was going to ask was going to be answered, or what was going to happen at all and how he would react. He didn't think he even had the ability to speak just yet.

Once again, he tucked his legs beneath him and resolutely stared ahead.

Seto took a place on the armchair next to him in front of the window.

And they both stayed silent.

Yami leaned his head against the back of the chair, staring at the lights filtering through the window. He kept silent, not trusting himself to start a conversation or acknowledge Seto's almost-physical gaze on him. He waited for Seto to start the conversation and then see what—and if— he had anything to say as a reply.

And Seto did not disappoint.

"Did Bakura do this?"

Yami turned his head to look at him. he studied the handsome expressions as they slowly changed from calm to angry and horrified. He gave no outward reaction as the brunet got up and approached him, swearing under his breath as he closely examined the side of his face. Yami knew that it was now swollen, bruised and generally plain ugly. He watched closely as Seto got up to head towards the bar, dishing out some ice cubes from the machine with the shovel placed there and returning again to place some of the cubes on the towel Yami had been using for that same purpose hours ago. He made a pack and raised it to Yami's face.

Yami was still watching him closely. He watched for signs of deception. He searched for evidence that Seto's efforts were just pretension.

In his silence and observation, he came to the same two frustrating conclusions and one of them had to be the truth. Either Bakura was lying to him and in that case, he wondered why go to such efforts to do that, since really… his ex-lover didn't even seem interested in getting him back or anything like that. Why then would he try to cause a rift between him and his present lover? And how is he in contact with Pegasus and knew of those elections taking place next week? And if it was out of spite…who would go to such measures?

The other conclusion was just too horrible to think of but just as plausible since he was an idiot. Always was and he supposed he always will be an idiot… And that was the possibility that Seto was a _very_ good actor.

He flinched at the touch of the cold pack to his face. It had been throbbing and he didn't even notice. Neither did he notice the headache pounding on that side of his head, or the way he was almost catatonic, not answering any of the questions Seto was asking or acknowledging anything he was saying, until he found the brunet shining a flashlight in his eyes, starting a neurological assessment that Yami recognized with ease.

"I'm fine, Seto. It's ten-thirty in the evening, we're at the hotel for the conference," he dismissed, completing the rest of the assessment with ease. His voice felt so unused, so foreign to him and he almost, almost cringed.

Seto sat back on his haunches in front of the armchair, a relieved look on his face. "You weren't answering me. I thought I'd check."

Yami shrugged.

Silence hung over them again.

"Is it?"

He frowned in confusion.

Seto impatiently repeated, "Is it Bakura who did it?"

Yami snorted derisively. "Why do you want to know?"

Seto blinked. "What do you mean why do you want to know? So I can bash his stupid face in, of course."

Once again, Yami shook his head scathingly, averting his eyes away to look out of the window after rolling them in incredulity.

"What the hell does _that_ mean?"

The anger in Seto's voice, the way he sounded affronted, skeptical; like he didn't understand what was going on, caused anger to bubble like lava within Yami. Unconsciously, he found himself raising an eyebrow, looking straight into Seto's eyes head on, scathingly biting back, "Did you so vehemently defend me while happily chatting with him about me two days ago?"

"What?" Seto asked, confused.

Yami rolled his eyes again and got up. Seto rose to his feet as well.

"Did you or did you not talk to him that day you first saw him here?" he asked.

"I don't understa…"

"The second day of the conference, Seto… after you left me here and went downstairs. Did you meet Bakura down there again and did you two talk?" he clarified, feeling impatience growing within him at the way his mind translated Seto's confusion as dishonesty. Deep down, he knew he was jumping to conclusions in an alarming, disturbing manner. That he should slow down. He was heading down a path that would ruin a lot of things if he didn't slow down…

Seto scowled, "What has that got to do with anything, Yami?"

Yami crossed his arms, "Just answer the question, Seto."

Seto was silent for a few moments, in which Yami's heart sluggishly thudded in his ears as he waited for an answer. "Yes… I found him waiting for me at the entrance to the hall, actually. I tried to leave him and walk away, but he was very persistent. Trailed me all over the place, actually," he said, finally. A closed look was crawling onto his features and Yami, with his hyper-perception of every change in his surroundings and with how that habit of noticing everything turned up to its maximum with how doubtful Bakura left him, he could clearly see the unease rolling off in waves off Seto's frame.

He was silent at the admission. He wanted to know what he was going to do with it. His heart was still racing sickeningly and in tandem with it the throbbing headache he had and the dull aching pain, the tenderness on his face, all increased with his heartbeat. A part of him wanted to stop the conversation at this. To not try and pry more than this, fearing the answer, the progression of the exchange about to take place…fearing his own reactions and the lack of control he had on himself.

"What did he say to you?" he found himself asking in a low tone.

"I don't think he had anything of value to say, Yami," Seto dismissed.

Yami seethed, "Really? Do you think I don't know what he told you? Do you think I am stupid?"

"No, Yami, I don't think you're stupid. Let me ask you, though… if you know what he said, why are you asking, Yami? Do you want me to repeat to you what he said to me? I don't think that that is something you'd want to hear coming from me," Seto bit back sharply.

Yami uncrossed his arms. "You will not _assume_ what I want to hear and what I don't want to hear, Seto."

His voice rose. He could feel aggression and his quick temper making itself known and a part of him tried warning him to keep himself under control, but he was finding it too difficult at the moment.

It was silenced cruelly by the very same magnitude of mounting rage he was trying to get under control when he found Seto's eyes growing cold and annoyed as well, raising an eyebrow and raising his hand to point at him, snapping back, "And you will not give yourself the right to speak to me like that if you won't explain to me what this is about, Yami. With all due respect, I am just trying to help and be there for you. Don't take out the frustration that once again you let that asshole get to you on me."

Yami saw red.

"Let him get to me? _Let him_?" he half-shrieked, his voice rising beyond what was considered acceptable. The words pissed him off and he could do nothing about the rage that surged through him at them, at the way the brunet was being ignorant and just saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. His eyes narrowed and sucked in a quick breath. He decided not to even discuss this phrase any more; it didn't deserve any more of his attention and such stupidity spouting from Seto's lips didn't deserve further discussion. "Answer the goddamned question, Seto… what did he say to you?" he paused for a heartbeat. Then he added, "And what did _you_ say to him?"

Seto narrowed his eyes, "No…Yami, let me ask you the same question…what did he say to _you_ today?"

Yami snorted, "He was about to say something about you today and I jumped to your defense. It's why I 'let the asshole get to me'; I was playing some knight in shining armor and defending your honor or something equally idiotic in my head, when he flipped out on me for putting him in his place. Something you didn't think necessary to do for me while chatting with him about all the nastiness of our relationship all those years back."

"So that is what he said to you today? He told you that he was mouthing you off and I didn't say anything in your defense?" Seto bit viciously back at him, an incredulous look on his features.

"He said plenty more, Seto…" Yami told him, narrowing his eyes. "And I am surely living up to his words, aren't I?" he added the last part almost musingly to himself. "He is right, isn't he? Isn't that what you're thinking right now? Isn't that what you were thinking that day itself when you came back here? Pathetic and weak, unable to face a brute like that and hiding up in your room like a little kid. Because I let him get to me, as you so colorfully described it right now. Or wait…is _that_ why you didn't even bother saying anything in my defense? You've left me here a wreck…no wonder you had nothing to say. You think he's right!"

Silence hung over the room after his tirade.

It was too late to stop himself anymore. His temper flared, it was too late to try and douse it with anything other than more fuel. His already frazzled nerves with the unexpected appearance of Bakura, with the encounter from today morning, the doubt already gnawing at his insides ever since the very beginning of this…relationship with Seto.

He was picking for a fight. He knew it. He had feebly attempted to stop himself, pace his words out, make them less abrasive and aggressive…but he had failed.

His breathing had quickened and his hands were shaking from where they were hanging at his sides. He knew his eyes were narrowed in a terrible glare, one that not a lot of people tolerated, not a lot of people knew how to deal with. It was far too late to avoid this awful clash. It was far too late to try and pretend in front of himself, before Seto, that Bakura's words hadn't completely gotten to him. It was far too late for handling this pleasantly. He had dived in too early, before calming down enough. And now he had to see this through to the end.

The angry, frustrated…betrayed part of him stubbornly retorted that it was alright.

Let the confrontation take place.

"Is there anything else he said to you today, Yami?"

Seto face was once again closed off by an unreadable expression. The tone of his voice was quiet. It was calm and firm, sectored off from the anger previously lacing his words.

Yami scowled.

"I have a lot of questions, Seto… and I think you are obligated to answer them," he declared.

Seto met his eyes head on, no sign of cowardice or backing away in them. He knew this was it and that this was where he should ask his questions. He was hurt. He was confused. He wanted answers. And he wasn't going to get them unless he asked questions. And he was going to ask them all. And Seto was obviously letting him get everything out before having his say on the matter.

"Am I being ' _courted'_ by you just for the elections coming up next week?"

Seto's eyebrows knit together in a surprised expression. "What are you talking about?"

"You wanted to know what he said to me today morning," Yami started, crossing his arms.

He didn't know if he did it out of need to feel that they weren't hanging so uselessly beside him, or if they formed a protection against the anger, frustration, betrayal he felt surging through him in a flurry of sensations that he was far too old to think he could ever stand feeling again. He felt like a child. Unable to control himself, unable to control the hurt gnawing mercilessly at him from within, unable to control his anger…

"He said that this wouldn't be the first time you start a relationship out of necessity. He said that Kisara had been the dean's daughter, and that's how you skipped the one year before your matching day… he said that it was the same with Jou's sister. Why else would he approve your PhD earlier than usual? And Ziegfried's da Vinci robotic lookalike's prototype?"

Silence hung over the room thick and cloying.

Yami knew that his gaze was hard, his glare too intense. His words too cutting and blunt.

But there was no way to have finesse around this topic.

"You asked what he said to me today. And there you have it," Yami snapped. His eyes, even to him, felt too hard with the glare he was directing at the brunet who stood staring expressionlessly at him. "I've asked you what he said to you about me… and I've asked you what you said back to him. You refused to answer me and gave yourself the right to demand knowing what happened today… so here you have it, Seto. That's exactly what he said. I want an explanation."

There was no sounds in the room at all. Only the very distant, almost faint sounds of traffic that reached the sickening fifty-something floors of the hotel. They were only heard because there was absolute silence in the enclosure around them. it was the only other sounds that Yami's hyperawareness could fathom, other than his harsh breaths and the beating of his heart in his ears.

"He said that to you today?" Seto asked him.

Yami's eyes narrowed a bit more.

"Yes… right after letting me know that you had nothing to say in my defense when he described to you in vivid detail just how damaged I am…"

The silence in the room stretched for a few more moments.

"And you believed him…?"

The question was spoken with such serenity… there was a mixture of quietness and curiosity in it. there was a hint of something else that felt like a kick to Yami's gut. There was a tiny hint of blame and disbelief in the words, as if Seto couldn't fathom the obviously affirmative answer to an obviously rhetorical question that didn't even deserve an answer, because it was obvious what Yami's answer would be even if was just as obvious what it should have been.

The phrase, the inquiry sounded to Yami like a verbal slap on the face.

He froze. He opened his mouth, then realized that he had nothing to say and this was not the question to which he could reply with an impulsive answer. He had to force himself to function as an adult. He had to step back and think. Think, for God's sake. Just think!

"You believed him…" Seto wasn't done, it was obvious. Apparently, he too was having trouble keeping his own temper in check. "You give yourself the right to throw his accusations in my face without bothering to ask me first…"

"What am I doing right now, then?" Yami hissed at him, all thoughts of self-control and rationality disappearing, defensiveness taking its place at the accusation Seto was throwing at him. _Rightfully_ throwing at him, a tiny part of his mind supplied, but his pride forced it to shut up.

Seto raised his voice several octaves as he replied, "Don't fool yourself… you're not _asking me_ , Yami. You've already taken his words as the absolute truth. It's why you're throwing them back in my face. This is exactly what I didn't want to do to you. Apparently, you have no qualms telling me exactly what he said to you."

"I need an explanation. And you _will_ provide one, Seto," Yami growled out in low tones, his arms falling to his sides again, shaking hands bunched into fists beside him.

"Why should I? Why must I provide one? The way you repeated his words without even pausing to doubt a single one of them just tells me that whatever I say in my defense won't be good enough. And I do not make it a habit to walk around giving excuses and denying rumors."

"Are they all rumors?" Yami asked. Challenged. Stupidly and not willing to back down and being plain stupid in general by being his usual aggressive self, raising the ante and not knowing just when to stop.

"Now you're so interested in asking, Yami?" Seto scoffed at him, his turn to raise his arms and cross them defensively in front of his chest. "Let me ask you and give you a little taste of what you did to me just now… Bakura said that you used him to obtain your master's, stealing all the stabbed-chest cases on which you based your degree from him… that you were going to do the same with me for the thesis we are working together on."

Yami blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Seto raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? You wanted to know what Bakura said about you and there you have it. And this is just one of those things, Yami."

"It's a big load of bullshit," Yami hissed at him.

Seto chuckled bitterly, derisively, "That is exactly what I believe. Without having to hear the confirmation from you."

Yami stayed silent. The affront…the insult to his career. The blatant _lie_ ; he felt the frustration of having the work he spent on the most difficult degree he had obtained during his profession belittled, the accusation of unethical conduct, eating at him. He could feel the niggle of guilt gnawing at him at Seto's words and the quiet voice that started scolding him well and good for doing the same with the brunet, but not just with only one of his degrees, but his entire career, starting with the specialty choice, through the PhD journey and ending with the crowning jewel of his work, the paper he published with pioneering technology unavailable to and unexplored by most surgeons in the field.

"Kisara was the dean's daughter. But we've started dating after the matching day, Yami. Six months after it, actually. I had spoken to the hospital administration to get them to offer an extra spot for me and used the excuse that I started med-school later than my peers," Seto spoke quietly.

Yami realized what he was doing and he suddenly didn't want to take part in this argument that he had started, that he had dug up and sought after because he was still a foolish little kid without control over his emotions and without common sense not to take the words of an abusive ex-lover over the words of someone who showed him more kindness and love than all the people he met in his life altogether.

"Shizuka was Jou's sister…but it's not why he approved my PhD to get through to the committee supervising it sooner than expected. It was because he found out Pegasus plagiarized his own thesis from a French paper and the department's reputation would have been tarnished if such information got out. If no thesis was submitted that year, people would have dug around to find out why and it would have come out to the open such a medical-ethics issue. It's even part of the reason why Jou became head of department before him even though they're both the same age…"

Yami remained silent. He listened. And as he listened, he knew that he might have made a mistake. No… he actually _did_ make a mistake.

"Zigfried offered his company's technologies to me at the start of our relationship. It was part of the support he was offering at first. I wasn't about to turn him down. My paper was completed months before I decided to leave him. And I will say it again, Yami, in terms clearer. I did not leave Zigfried because my need for him was gone. I left him because he was emotionally draining me and I couldn't continue in such an abusive relationship. It was not because I was done with my paper."

Yami looked away. Seto's expression was no longer closed and unreadable. The raw emotion in his blue eyes seemed to burn Yami alive and he couldn't meet the intense gaze. Weak and useless, he looked away, unable to meet those eyes and too proud to admit his mistake to simply show aggression before trying to understand. He pushed aside any excuses of being unstable and unable to think clearly. He was supposed to be an adult. He was supposed to have more control of himself than this…

"I dismissed Bakura's accusations and refused to acknowledge them, Yami… because I trust you. I knew that whatever shit he had to say about you isn't true. From what you told me about him, I know that he isn't exactly a reliable source of information. The way he _spoke_ of you…" Seto paused. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes shutting for a few seconds, as if to calm himself down. "The way he spoke of you, the way he made light of everything you've gone through…it was more than enough to negate any need to discuss his accusations with you. I don't need his words to tell me what I needed to know about you. I only needed what I saw for myself in you, through my own eyes."

Yami felt heat rising to the back of his neck. He felt stupid. He knew that he had ruined everything with his rashness and his poor insight, poor control of himself.

"Apparently the feeling isn't mutual, Yami."

Seto wasn't done yet. He was still speaking, his words level and calm and Yami almost wished he would yell, lose control of the phenomenal temper the brunet had, but it was obvious that, as usual, Seto was several steps ahead of him with maturity and finesse that he would live for ages before dreaming of possessing.

"I understand that no matter how hard you try to deny it, that you do have trust issues, but there is nothing to be done about it if you won't admit it to yourself before me that you do have them. I will only tell you that I can only say so much to convince you of something I've already said to you several times and repeated it even if you did not answer me back…"

Yami looked up to meet the blue eyes. The blue eyes that held his gaze for a few moments; hurt, angry, sad…a myriad of horrible emotions that Yami knew he was responsible for. He then looked away, moving towards the abandoned icepack and walking towards him once again. he watched him in silence, not replying; having nothing to say.

"I love you. I've said it many times before, Yami… and it won't change. But I will not stay where my feelings aren't met or welcome. Do keep that in mind."

Then, gently, he placed the pack on the side of his face, his touches still tender and unchanged. Carefully, he pressed it against the throbbing mess on his features. With very gentle touches, as if he was dealing with something very fragile, very breakable. He reached for Yami's hand, raising it to hold it to the icepack.

"If you need anything, I'll be in my room. Good night, Yami…" he said and stepped past him, heading towards the door, opening it and leaving him standing in his place, unmoving and unable to do anything except staying frozen in place.

tbc…

* * *

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating today because tomorrow I am on shift and I didn't want people waiting until Wednesday evening. The tale is almost at its end. Stick to it a bit further. Thanks everyone.

"Inflate the lung, Rafael, please…"

Yami kept his eyes fixed on the tissues before him, waiting for the whoosh of oxygen travelling through the circuit of the OR's vent, through the endotracheal tube and into the patient's lung. He watched with attention, scanning the surgical field carefully for blood oozing, air bubbles or any other aberrations to the normal field.

He listened with half an ear to Rafael whispering something to his junior residents, instructing a blood transfusion. There had been a bleeder that they cauterized, but not before it exceeded the patient's maximum allowed blood loss volume. The crystalloids weren't going to be useful and they needed the blood, which the junior-most resident standing with Rafael was rechecking the patient's ID before starting to add saline to it to begin the transfer.

He noticed the chemistry between the two the moment he set eyes on the interactions between their blond anesthesiologist and his newest addition to the anesthesia department, a very tall and lean young man with very pale skin, grey eyes and dark brick-red hair which he pulled into a very tiny half-bun and stuffed beneath the surgical cap. He observed the way Rafael's baby blue eyes lingered for a second or two longer than normal on the lock of red peeking from beneath the cap, the way he glared and was generally stricter with his instructions to this young man when he was usually less firm with others.

He supposed Seto would have a field day teasing Rafael once he saw the two interacting.

His eyes grew distant over the surgery field as he thought of the brunet.

They had been back for two days already. Yami hadn't seen Seto ever since the end of the very long, very awkward, very silent flight back to Domino. He hadn't left his suite ever since Seto said good night the last time they talked –fought, a part of his mind supplied helpfully—and he hadn't bothered attending the closing ceremony of the hands-down worst conference he ever attended in his entire life. They only met in the lobby as they left together for the airport, Seto's eyes distant, his stance detached and his words, if offered, cold and indifferent.

He had plenty of time to think things over. Seto had given explanations to all of Bakura's claims. Yami had thought all of them through. It was easy to first recoil and simmer in anger right after Seto left him alone that night. He had nursed his marred features with ice and painkiller pills in his bag for emergencies and sat thinking things through.

First reaction to the entire situation had been a flare of arrogance and pride. Disbelief to admit that he had any fault in the matter. His mind, his ego went as far as proudly denying any reassurance Seto's explanations should provide. A part of him raged, said that those could be mere words. He had no way to confirm that Seto's excuses weren't just that. Excuses. What method did he have to confirm what Seto was saying? How could he be sure that this wasn't just something that fit into the grand scheme of things Seto had planned?

He sat for a long while justifying his reaction. Justifying the way he shoved accusations down Seto's throat without evidence, dumping all of his confusion, damage and distress on him without a pause or a thought to what he was doing and the tactlessness of it all.

Hours and hours later, though… sitting alone, hurt –physically and mentally— and scared, he realized the error of his line of thought so far. The vehemence in them, the force and anger…all of that faded gradually. The strength of the excuses dwindled pathetically. The adrenaline that his fight-or-flight response to Bakura's assault on him faded and the urge to just attack declined down when his mind supplied that he was attacking the last person he should be attacking.

All that was left for him was the way he was sitting in the middle of an empty bed with just his thoughts, his self-doubt, his destructive notions, for company. His pride was not enough to erase all the depressing and unpleasant sensations rushing through him.

He needed something else.

All of the doubts he had for Seto's words disappeared. Or maybe they didn't disappear. In fact, none of what Seto said could actually be proven at that particular moment. But there was nothing to prove Bakura's claims either.

In short, it was Bakura's word against Seto's.

Strangely, though, he was still guilty about just believing Bakura.

He had spent years and years alone, licking his own wounds in silence and not seeking out anyone's help doing so, to walk out the next day with a smile and a stronger back than ever, unbroken and tougher than the day before it and its problems. Seto had wrecked that ability. He had taken away the fact that he had zero knowledge on having someone being there for him. And now, just like any other problem that faced him ever since meeting the brunet… he needed someone with him. He needed Seto with him as he dealt with this…

He thought of calling Yugi and quickly dismissed the idea. He did not want to worry his brother. He didn't feel like dealing with the over-protectiveness that Yugi was going to suffocate him with once he saw his face and heard that he met Bakura once again. And more importantly, he didn't feel like dealing with Yugi's reprimands at how masterfully he had ruined things with Seto.

He had known for a while now that he had made a mistake. Seto had every right to be mad at him. He had every right to feel hurt and betrayed by how quickly he, Yami, had jumped to conclusions about him. Yami had thoroughly reprimanded himself about it all. He had ruined things; picked a fight when he really should not have.

He supposed that it was expected of him. This is what he did, after all. He was a master at ruining good things for himself. At the time that he should have held on with all his might to the one person who would be able to help him with the horror of Bakura waltzing back into his life. Instead, he had gone and picked an unnecessary fight without basis or foundation until he crossed that line, tested the limits of the saintly patience Seto used to deal with him.

He had done this before…

But where he had proudly walked away without a care before…this time he felt that he had been kicked in the gut and the sensation stayed with him. There was a hollow feeling in his chest. Almost like he was falling and never reaching the bottom so he could get rid of the breathtaking sensation.

He needed to face Seto. He knew he needed to apologize and try to fix things. Or at least see if things could be fixed. He had overstepped a boundary and he didn't even know if a lowly apology could put everything back together.

He had to speak with Seto.

It did nothing to soothe his nerves that they were was supposed to have a combined shift today, but he found Jou present instead of Seto.

It made him distracted, shifting his focus away from work.

And just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard Jou's voice firmly saying, "Yami, are you alright?"

He blinked and looked up. He was acutely aware of everyone silently looking at him expectantly. He blinked several times and visibly shook off his thoughtful reverie, grateful for the mask that was on his face, hiding the fact that he was flushed bright red with embarrassment at his distraction.

"Yes, I apologize," he muttered.

He forced himself to look down on the progress of the surgery, noting with mortification that Rafael had deflated the lung once again to allow them to continue with their pulmonary tractotomy of the lacerated lung following a stab wound and that he hadn't noticed any of that happening. They had inserted a chest tube within half an hour of the patient's arrival, but found the more than 1500mL coming out through the thoracostomy tube the moment it was inserted. They had to bring the patient into an OR for an emergency thoracotomy. Jou had repaired the bleeder and had been trying to find any other sources of the blood, but it was obvious that there was none.

They stayed silent for a long while, then, as they were repairing the pleura, Jou spoke.

"Are you alright?" the blond repeated. Yami looked up at him questioningly. Jou's ash-brown eyebrows rose and he nodded his head towards him, "That's a nasty cut there… and a nasty bruise. Are you sure you're alright? Did you have it looked at? Maybe you need to…"

Yami scowled, cutting him off in firm tones, "I was distracted. I apologize. If you want me to leave and call Honda in to take over you can just say so."

He then looked down at surgical field, making sure to ignore the comment made on the bruise still marring his face. It was now an ugly, faded purple color with yellows around the edges. It made looking in the mirror today morning quite a more dramatic disappointment than usual. Plain and boring didn't need the ugliness of pathology and he was acutely aware of the familiar unease of having to walk into work with an injury adding to his already troubled thoughts and he just felt, for what seemed like the millionth time in less than ten days, like curling up and dying somewhere.

Jou wasn't helping at all.

He paused, shifting his feet slightly, "Really, what the hell's the matter with you and Kaiba, you're both so edgy! Did something happen?"

Yami scowled even more at the mention of Seto.

" _Nothing happened_ ," he hissed with finality, looking up to glare from across the table. He then pointedly and resolutely fixed his eyes onto the surgical field again. "Can we just focus on closing up the pleura here and get this done?"

Silence took over the room again and Yami was intensely aware of the train of thoughts going through everyone's minds. The scenarios they were making up. He vehemently kept his head down, focusing with renewed vigor on his work, placing perfect sutures and attuning himself to Jou's commands with ease, until they placed the last suture on the skin of the patient, just as Rafael started injecting his reverse and lowering the inhalational anesthesia gradually to wake him up.

Yami took off the disposable gown and stood writing up the paperwork with Jou by the room's crash cart. He quickly wrote down the surgery report with his messy handwriting messier than usual with how desperately he wanted to be done with it before Jou so he could take off before his blond superior to avoid the questions he knew were coming. To his irritation, however, it seemed that no one could write or scribble faster than Jou, who finished his report an entire three minutes before he did.

Yami wanted to commend him on the impressive skill. He was far too busy trying to act normal, though and leave the room as quickly as possible.

Jou followed him with ease.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on?" Jou asked him as they walked out of the PACU and out to the hallways beyond the operating theaters.

He feigned ignorance, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jou placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. Yami stared up at the concerned hazel eyes. "Whatever problems between you and Seto, Yami, I am not interested in their details. Unless he was the one he placed that bruise there…"

Yami blinked. "Oh no…" he shook his head. Jou's eyes narrowed slightly and he rushed out, feeling very defensive and oddly offended by the suggestion on Seto's behalf. "No, no, no…you got it all wrong. No, Jou, it's not Seto…"

"Then who is it?" the question was asked in low, slightly angry tones.

Yami flushed bright red, automatically and –stupidly—too hastily replying, "I fell." Jou crossed his arms and fixed him with an intense look. Yami squirmed under the gaze, unable to meet it, the lie too difficult for some unfathomable reason. "I…err…I got dizzy. Didn't have a good breakfast… hypoglycemia and stuff… and I fell," he tried explaining further, stuttering and looking at the wall, praying his excuses wouldn't sound too obviously fake. He knew it was futile though and it was fuelling his desperation and he found the words dying at his lips.

Silence hung between them like a thick curtain.

He wanted to run and hide. He didn't want any confrontations and he wasn't in any mental state to have one with Jou. He was about to excuse himself and run out like a coward when Jou spoke.

"I understand you are a private person, Yami…" Yami looked up at him. There was a grim look on the usually very teasing, easy-going features. "You are very secretive and everyone who dealt with you for the duration of your stay in Domino knows that too well. But that does not mean you will not find help if you need it."

He blinked in surprise at being called secretive. He never thought of himself like that at all. But this wasn't the first time someone said that about him and having Jou saying the same thing without prior knowledge that he had been called that before unnerved him a little. It also made him flush slightly with embarrassment at the worried look in the hazel eyes.

"Jou, I don't really need you to worry ab…" he started defensively, but stopped when Jou quickly shook his head.

"I will believe you saying that you fell. And that that bruise which is obviously a result of someone taking a swing directly at your face is in fact a result of some _fall_ due to _hypoglycemia_ …" the blond said firmly. Yami flushed brightly and looked away. "I want you to know however, that should another hypoglycemic dizzy spell hits you, I will be there to prevent it or beat it into a bloody pulp if I cannot."

Yami, against his will, snickered at the words.

Jou smiled. "Atta boy…" he commented and Yami gave an embarrassed little smile after his laughter subsided slightly. "Do you need to talk, Yami…?" he added with a serious look again.

Yami opened his mouth to say something. He realized that he had no idea what he was about to say though. The offer was tempting, but he didn't think he could do it. He wanted to ask for advice. After all, Jou knew Seto for far, far longer than he did. But he couldn't bring himself to speak.

He closed his mouth again, sighed and shook his head.

"Thank you," he started. He raised a hand to the back of his head, "I am just… tired. The conference didn't go as well as I thought it would."

Jou nodded. "I figured as much… still, my offer stands," he insisted. "If you need to talk, I will listen even if I cannot help. I know I said that your and Seto's problems are none of my business, but I just want you to know that…" he paused. He looked almost thoughtful, carefully trying to choose his words. "I want you to know that a lot of us… and me as well, we all want things to be alright with you and Seto, Yami."

"Do you really?" Yami asked with a sad little smile.

Jou nodded. "I've known Seto for years, Yami… he hasn't had things easy for him but he's stubborn and does anything he can to prove himself. Sometimes even at the expense of his own wellbeing."

Yami stayed silent and listened to Jou's words, letting them sink in properly.

"He's an idiot, no matter what shit he spouts about being a genius. An idiot and a socially-awkward one, at that. Relationships aren't easy for him. Whenever he gets into one, he's extra careful not to ruin things. And sometimes, things just don't work out and even if now he knows that it isn't his fault…but I've seen him beating himself up for things that aren't his fault and that he had no say in."

Yami let him speak. He was getting insight and perspective he needed, even if Jou didn't know what transpired between them. He was letting him speak with spontaneity, soaking up the surplus of information and storing it away to think about it properly in future situations where he had had his head up his ass like he did with that last argument.

"I just want you to know…and Seto will kill me for this, but I want you to know that you're different from the others, Yami…" Jou was adding. Yami stared up at him silently, not offering any outward reaction, so he continued, "I am offering a listening ear, if I can't offer anything else."

Yami nodded. He was dumbfounded by the offer. Jou had no reason to try and help. Other than just being a good person, generally. It was a feat that was common to people here and Yami found it very difficult to adjust. To believe for real that these people who had no purpose in helping him doing it just like that, so easily.

He supposed that was the root of the fight he had with Seto. The trust issues—as Seto's accurate description went— so inherent within him that pushed everyone away indistinctively, regardless who wanted to help him and who meant him harm. He had no means to differentiate who the genuine ones were and who wanted something from him and it was the reason why he was in this mess in the first place.

He was distracted by those thoughts. Jou had started talking about boring paperwork that didn't interest him in any way. He only caught gist of the topic he was discussing. He had been saying that everything was ready for the election ceremony taking place tomorrow, that everyone had received their ballot cards. Yami knew that that was the case because he found his waiting for him on his phone in the form of a code sent via SMS. He wondered what decision Yami reached about those elections and ranted about Pegasus already trying his hardest to secure the position. He said something about him being interested in the observership programs, that he had taken a liking to one of the doctors in the new batch of candidates had arrived and were going to attend the surgeries with them starting today.

Yami couldn't care less about it, not one bit, until a few of Jou's words penetrated the fog of his thoughts.

"…weird hair. It's entirely white in color. No wonder he and Pegasus are working on their thesis together. He said he knew you before and…"

He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening in horror.

"What?" he cut off Jou's rant with the single question.

The blond, who had walked on, not noticing he had stopped in the middle of the hall turned to look back at him. "Hmm? I said he said he knew you. He had weird white hair and he works with Pegasus on a combined…"

"His name's Bakura?" Yami urgently asked, his voice dropping to a hush. He had to praise himself on the fact that he could speak at all.

Jou raised an eyebrow, "So you _do_ know him?"

Yami raised a hand to run it through his hair, removing the surgery cap still on it in the process in a nervous, agitated gesture. "Yes…Yes, Jou, I know him." Jou walked back towards him, a concerned look on his features. Apparently, he was about to ask about the cause for his reaction, but he interrupted, "How long is he staying?"

The suspicious look was still in the hazel eyes as Jou answered, "He said he's here in Domino for just a few days. He's going over the final details of his thesis with Dr. Crawford, observing the surgery lists during those days and leaving by the end of the week after attending the party after the elections are held." He paused. Yami closed his eyes for a few seconds, then silently started walking once again. Jou stepped beside him. "Is there a problem?"

Yami looked at him for a few seconds in which he made a single decision.

This wasn't the time to be proud.

He swallowed what felt like all of his ego and pride. "We…err…met during the conference."

Jou remained silent, letting him have the pause that he needed so much.

"Bakura and I… we aren't on very good terms."

Jou stopped. Yami met his eyes for a few seconds, noticing the way the hazel eyes fixed themselves on the scabbed over cut above his lid, the way they trailed over the remainder of the bruise on the side of his face and realization and understanding blossomed on his features.

"I am asking him to leave," Jou said with finality.

Yami blinked, "You can't do that."

"You can watch me."

And he started walking away, determination in his footsteps. Yami rushed after him. "Jou, don't be an idiot! An observership isn't prone to the likes and dislikes of the department members. It is the reputation of an entire university campus. Don't go making trouble with the board just because I am finicky around a guest."

"It sure as hell is prone to the whims of the head of the department the guest is visiting, Yami. And if that asshole is the reason behind that bruise then I don't want him around, university board be damned!" Jou snapped at him.

Yami held on to Jou's arm, looking around him to check if anyone heard the exchange. "Jou, please! Don't make a scene," he hissed in low tones, pleadingly. The blond scowled, apparently not convinced, so Yami quickly added, "I am _adult_ , Jou. I am sure I can handle a few surgery lists with someone I don't exactly see eye to eye with. So can we just stop making a fuss out of this and return to work?"

Jou pursed his lips tightly and Yami could just hear the war waging beneath those thick blond locks of his. He remained silent for a few more seconds then he scowled.

"Alright, Yami… but if he steps one toe out of line I am kicking his ass out whether you like it or not. I'm tailing you throughout his stay and he better stay away from you."

Yami almost, almost felt like laughing at the threat-like tone to Jou's tone. Almost.

The anxiety rushing through him at yet another appearance Bakura was making in his life made everything joyful disappear. For the moment, he could only focus his attention on preparing himself to deal with the unpleasantness that being in close proximity with Bakura at work.

Jou changed the subject expertly. He asked him what he decided to do tomorrow during the department elections. He stressed on him that whatever he decided was alright and that he should just do what he thinks is right. Yami quietly told him that what he thought was right, was to show up tomorrow and vote for Seto. Jou shrugged and nodded, telling him that that is what he should be doing if he thinks it's the right thing to do.

Yami thoughts drifted. He had thought long and hard about this. He knew that no matter how much he enjoyed his peace of mind and staying below gossip's radars, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He had worked with everyone over the duration he spent in Japan ever since he arrived. He worked with Seto, with Jonouchi and with Pegasus as well as the other younger members of the department. Each had a different work dynamic. Each were so different from the other, even the way they liked to loop the thread around the tip of a needle holder to place a surgeon's knot…

Yami knew long, long ago that medicine was art. Each specialty of it tailored itself to suit each patient, giving then end result as suitable as possible. Each of them had their own style of using the knowledge they obtained over the years, coupling it with those years' experience and then modified each response according to each patient's complaint.

He knew that such a thing was evident more in surgical specialties than in internal medicine. He knew that surgeons especially had to obtain finesse with their work that many other doctors could get away with not having.

And just like he knew that he had his own style, his own character to add to his practice of medicine… he knew how to spot his colleagues' styles.

And comparing between Seto and Pegasus was so easy.

Objectively speaking, both Seto and Pegasus had exactly what it takes to run the department smoothly. Both were ruthless. A feat that Yami knew from working at so many hospitals and with so many departments, was a necessity.

But Seto was just…better. Yami realized that there must be some bias in his judgment. But he knew that that must be the case with everyone, he supposed. He was trying his hardest not to let his relationship with the brunet determine anything to deal with this.

With the same objectivity, he tried comparing the two. Both had the artist-like finesse Yami sought with everyone he worked with, there was no doubt about it. Each had a rationale for their unique style. And they convinced him easily with that rationale.

But Seto was better for because he went an extra mile. After every surgery, he would ask for saline on surgery towels and would wipe down the area where he worked, cleaning it completely before finishing his work, easing the nurses' jobs and generally letting the patient leave the room looking clean and well-groomed and very well cared for. He would always tie his knots along the same side of the wound even if it had absolutely no effect whatsoever to align them on different sides. He would always make sure to explain every little relevant detail to his patients' relatives, patient and attentive and firm in a way that Yami had never seen on any other surgeon before him.

Working with Seto in a theater was easy…

Pegasus was automatically abrasive to everyone around him. Even before the fiasco that took place between him and Yami, Yami was uncomfortable working with him. And like with Seto…it was the little things that really made him cringe at working with Pegasus. Where Seto was respectful, handling the skin, muscle and tissues before him with deference, Pegasus was just…not. He had no qualms making crude jokes involving the patient. He was outright abusive sometimes. Yami had seen this type of surgeon before; crude, disrespectful to the sacrosanct nature his touch was supposed to be. He made comments on previous scars, made comments on patients' figures and builds… once made fun of a woman's nose, another's stomach.

It was an easy decision to make.

Since both of them were equal at surgical skills, degrees obtained –no matter who was older or who got his PhD first—and leadership skills… the only factor left to determine who was more deserving of the position was easily …ethics.

Yami had reached that conclusion easily. He just wasn't sure what to do. He was advised to do what he thought was right and since his vote was so important suddenly, Jou, Pegasus and Bakura were all very interested in it…he knew the right thing would be to give it to someone who deserves it and will be worthy of it.

Amidst all the turmoil of his thoughts, as they went about their day dealing with the emergency cases drifting one after the other and doubtful decisions on what to do the next day, his thoughts kept drifting back to one thought. All he could think of after every anxious, upset train of thought was how much he wished Seto would just be there. Even if he was still angry, even if he was giving Yami the cold shoulder and still hurt by his words… Yami just wished he was there.

He went home and called his brother to check on him. He carefully avoided the subject of the conference. He also carefully wiggled his way out of a dinner invitation as he stood in front of his bedroom's mirror, grimacing silently at the bruise he knew Yugi would fuss endlessly about. He hung up after listening to Yugi's inane chatter on Anzu's return to her dance classes, something about his own starting semester and a potential part-time job at a nearby grocery shop. Yami offered appropriate responses to the news, his mind distracted but he miraculously avoided Yugi noticing that. Or perhaps his brother noticed, but didn't feel like pushing for details. All in all, by the time he hung up, he was grateful he wasn't pulled into a discussion he didn't want to have.

He showered and changed into a pair of pants and a long-sleeved warm t-shirt. He fixed himself a sandwich, grabbed an apple and trudged with slow steps into his bedroom, lazily eating and stopping next to the window to watch the sea. It was a starless night, the clouds hanging low and threateningly over Domino promising heavy downpours tomorrow.

Tomorrow he would have to go through with an experience he thought he had left behind. He would have to stand in the same operating room with Bakura. He would have to work under his scrutiny again, even if this time, he won't have a say in his technique, his choice of action. He knew he would have to listen to his choices getting belittled in front of all of his new colleagues.

He knew he was in for yet another nasty reenactment of a past he had hoped he left behind.

And to make matters worse…Seto wasn't going to be there for it. He was going to be alone.

With these thoughts swirling through his mind, he cleared his dinner with his meager appetite, went around the house tidying it up, putting away the things he had taken with him on the conference that he hadn't had the energy to put away. The mess was taking its toll on his stressed out mind, though and the tedious, almost mechanical actions of cleaning comforted him.

He went to bed, dreading the next day and with an unpleasant rolling of his stomach that reminded him of exam days and he lay tossing and turning for hours until finally, he fell into exhausted sleep, filled with nightmares and scenarios that could take place.

He walked into the OR the next day, groggy and grumpy to find Seto standing with Jou.

His arms were crossed and there was a scowl on his face and he, as well as Jou, were both staring at a far corner of the room.

Yami silently made his way over to them, quietly uttering a good morning and following their gaze.

Immediately, he looked away when he found Pegasus standing with Bakura, both of them engrossed in some discussion or the other over a patient's file.

Seto positively looked murderous.

Yami shifted uncomfortably, torn between unease at Bakura's presence, guilt that Seto was still angry and the rush of happiness and calmness going through him at the brunet's mere presence. He wasn't sure what to do, he just knew that, after averting his eyes from Bakura and looking at Seto, he could feel a deliriously delighted expression spreading on his features. He wondered why he was here. Today, in their schedules, Seto was supposedly off. Didn't have a surgery list and wasn't on call.

A little niggling part of him suggested that maybe Jou told him that Bakura was present and that was why he was here? Something fluttered in his stomach at the thought and he stared up at Seto, trying to read anything in the stoic, cold features.

Seto wasn't reacting, though.

Yami felt his heart sinking when he realized that he was still getting the silent treatment. He remained quiet, going over his next surgery's files, half-reading and half-focused on Jou's conversation with Seto. He was telling him he needn't come so early and he could have just arrived for the elections taking place after the surgery list. Seto was quietly replying and Yami couldn't hear what he had to say.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and focused on the file.

"You look unhappy…"

He looked up to meet kind baby blue eyes and he smiled at the words muttered with a familiar calmness. "Don't worry about it, Rafael…" he reassured, touched beyond belief.

The blond anesthesiologist gestured for him to come with him with two long slender fingers, "C'mon, I'll take a look at your patient's file before examining him. You can keep me company."

"Where's your new resident?" Yami smartly teased, a side-grin tugging his lips mischievously.

"Har, har, Yami, very funny," Rafael told him and Yami outright giggled. They stepped around the corner and towards the other side of the PACU where the patients waited to get into the Operating Rooms or get out of them, then Rafael stopped him, "Leave that topic aside for now. I wanted to speak to you about something."

Yami raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What will you do with your department's elections today?"

Yami stared blankly at him.

Rafael clucked his tongue slightly.

"Look…what happens in your department is none of my business Yami," he said, looking uneasy.

If Yami had been a ruder person, he would have agreed. It was a generally accepted worldwide rule that hospital departments did not get involved in one another's politics. Instead of pointing that out, though, he continued staring questioningly at him.

"I am not interested in that… I just want to tell you that you are in a very sticky situation Yami. We all know that it's Kaiba who deserves that position. And I just want you to know… that even if you don't attend today's event, people will still talk. It will be said that you bailed out on him. That when he needed your vote the most, you didn't give it to him."

Yami frowned. He had never thought of this possibility.

"What I mean to say…is that no matter what you do, Yami, people are going to talk. And…I know this is too short notice and a bad time, since the surgery list is just about to start, but I couldn't get a hold of you until now, so I can just tell you that you should do what you think is right, regardless of what you think people will say. Because like it or not, they will have something or the other to say about any matter, no matter how mundane…"

He sighed.

"Rafael, what I think is right is to try my best to get Seto into that post. But you know how this will look like…" he trailed off, uneasy.

Rafael shook his head, "I know exactly what this looks like considering all of your options. As I said, people will talk regardless of your decision." He was silent for a few moments. "And you're thinking from your perspective only, Yami… let me tell you something. If Seto gets this post and you show up to vote, regardless who you vote for…people will forever gossip that he was going out with you just so you can get him there."

Yami blinked and opened his mouth in shock for a few seconds, thinking carefully of his words, then lowering his voice a little and whispering, "Rafael, someone already told me that Seto is doing just that."

Anger flashed in the baby blue eyes, a swearword uttered under his breath and Yami averted his eyes somewhere else, his mind swirling with a million thoughts.

"I knew it!" Rafael was saying.

Yami looked up at him, searching with desperation for any signs of deception on his face. He then closed his eyes, realizing what he was doing. He was mistrusting every single person in his path without second thought. He was so willing to succumb to Bakura's lies… the way he wanted to poison every aspect of his life, that he immediately looked for ways to prove his words truthful over the words of these people who he spent months working with and they proved, time and again, that they were good decent people who had no desire whatsoever to hurt him…

He was giving Bakura exactly what he wanted. Total unquestionable control over every aspect of his life years and years after they broke up.

He shook himself out of his self-reprimanding thoughts to Rafael speaking.

"Yami…let me just tell you that Kaiba is a celebrity… he's been a celebrity for years. Not only in Domino, but all over the world. He has news spreads done for him just like any other famous person out there. You seem to forget that fact."

Yami blinked, staring ahead of him and shrugging slightly. It was true. It was a fact he was overlooking time and again.

"I have only one thing to say to you, Yami… rumors will follow Seto wherever he goes…" Yami turned to look up at him. "You have one of two choices…either care about every little thing people have to say about him, disregarding the truth or lies behind them…or you can just believe in the person you've gotten to know and you're still getting to know."

Yami gave him a half smile. It was a bit cute… Rafael giving him this talk. He felt touched. It made his eyes mist over very slightly and his chest tighten. These people were no longer just workmates. This wasn't like any other place he worked at. This place was different. The people were different. Usually, he was aloof enough to keep everyone away long enough for him to pack and move on somewhere else. Usually…he never allowed anyone to speak to him of personal matters. He never allowed himself to trust anyone with personal matters. Rafael may not know the depth of the problem that happened with Seto in Tokyo, neither did Jou, but surely, both of them wanted to help and made that clear enough.

It was now up to him. Either he let Bakura ruin his life with mere words after walking back into it uninvited like he did…or he could put an end to this mess and for once, stand up for himself without anyone's prompting.

It was soothing that, even if it scared him so much and made his stomach flutter with unease… he had made a decision.

tbc…

* * *

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it :D hello my dear readers. Welcome to the final chapter of this –very long—tale. I am honored that you've all stuck this far until we've reached the end. I hope it was enjoyable, didn't get too boring and wasn't cliché'd or disappointing to anyone.
> 
> I had planned on splitting this into two chapters, but then thought that my OCD can't settle for an odd-number of chapters XD so I decided, as a treat and since this is the last chapter, I'd put the two chapters in one and give you a nice big juicy chunk to say goodbye.
> 
> I apologize to those expecting lemon. It just didn't fit into the story's finale. It is only mentioned in passing.
> 
> Thanks again for reading. I hope you will enjoy the final chapter of Bows of Promise.
> 
> EDIT: Thanks to Capsaicin-sama for the lovely lovely LOVELY art for this <3 Here's the link to her Tumblr: https://kuriiiiiiiiiii.tumblr.com/

It was a scene that had repeated many times before.

The setting was the same, except for very minor details. A cool, enclosed, isolated operating room floor. A very large hall-like area, consisting of over ten operating rooms each with a scrubbing area attached, all of them connected by a hallway painted in pale greens and blues and lit with bright fluorescent lights.

He felt strangely confident as he walked once again with Rafael towards the PACU. He could straighten his spine fully even as they passed by Bakura to get the patient who was getting his vitals measured by one of the nurses. He could feel the brown eyes fixed upon him and he knew that ignoring them would be giving their owner exactly what he wanted.

And so, he did not do what he would have usually done in such a situation. He did not keep his own crimson eyes ahead of him, resolutely and firmly avoiding contact with those familiar brown ones. He knew that avoiding them would be giving Bakura was he wanted. The feeling that he was making him uncomfortable enough to try and avoid any and all contact with him no matter how unnatural it was to just avoid staring at one person in the same enclosed space.

His eyes met Bakura's, easily reading the glee and anticipation in them. He knew Bakura was expecting him to get flustered, look away quickly to avoid eye contact. So, it was expected for surprise to blossom on the familiar handsome features when he refused to do that, staring long and hard at him. Not looking away, not cowering in fear.

It was a bit of a victory when it wasn't him who looked away first. Pegasus was saying something to Bakura, who kept up his stare for a few seconds longer, then looked away, a slight scowl on his face. Yami stared ahead as they stopped beside the patient and grabbed the file to stare over his lab results before beginning.

"Who is that?" Rafael asked him, placing his stethoscope into his ear and putting its cone on the patient's chest, addressing him, "Take a deep breath and let it out for me."

Yami blinked and looked questioningly at him. Rafael's eyes trailed over to the two white-haired surgeons standing on the other side of the PACU, while shifting the cone of the stethoscope over the patient's chest, encouraging him to continue taking deep breaths. Yami looked over at his ex-lover once again then back at Rafael.

He shrugged.

"Pegasus. And his new thesis partner. He's here for the observership program," he explained.

Rafael raised an eyebrow, gently placing pressure on the patient's shoulder to make him lean forward slightly so he can auscultate his back. "He's been looking at you and Kaiba funny ever since he walked in here."

Yami rolled his eyes slightly, "He was my senior resident in Egypt when I started work. We know each other."

Rafael paused. He looked as if he wanted to ask something else, but decided against it, looking unsure. His mind was made up when someone stepped closer to the bed, standing with them. It was the red-haired young man from yesterday and Yami smiled at him when he greeted them good morning.

"What time is it?" Rafael snapped with a scowl.

Yami blinked at him. The kid stared at his watch calmly, replying, "Five minutes past eight."

"And what time are you supposed to be here?"

"Eight."

Yami watched the exchange quietly, as Rafael put down the stethoscope and faced the young man with his impressive scowl, amazed at the junior resident's much more impressive ability to stare up at an angry Rafael without a flinch, as he admonished, "You are five minutes late."

"Rafael," Yami groaned at him, his eyebrows inching together with annoyance. He knew what this was, but never thought Rafael would be so easily drawn into it. It was sexual tension and the blond was dealing with it in the absolute worst manner. He was snapping and pushing away at the source of it, alienating the newest member of the anesthesia department and it was obvious that the kid was confused.

To his surprise, the redhead raised a placating hand towards him, "It's alright, sensei…" Yami blinked at him. apparently, he had been talking to Honda and Ryuji and took up the habit of calling him that. Before he could say anything about that, however, the young man turned to Rafael and said, "I apologize. It won't happen again."

Rafael turned bright red and his scowl deepened. He turned away and directed his attention back to the patient while Yami stood awkwardly trying to make the young man with red hair smile a little after this little public rebuke from Rafael.

"It's alright," the young man repeated with a slight grin at his efforts. "It's the way things are here. We're not like the surgery department. We must be here before hours and no matter what my reasons are, I should make it on time, if not before that even. It is my problem I cannot adjust my other circumstances to match the department's requirements."

Yami smiled kindly at him. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Amelda. I just started two weeks ago," he explained.

He was about to add to this, but Rafael's voice interrupted him with an annoyed half-snap, half-bark at him to ready OR 5 for a general anesthesia procedure instead of standing there and chatting. Apologetically, Amelda excused himself and left with calmness that Yami envied him for.

Once he was out of earshot Yami turned to glare at Rafael, "Don't be an ass, Rafael." Rafael pretended to look over the lab results, so Yami quickly snatched the piece of paper from him. "Don't mess the kid up because you can't deal with a stupid crush."

"This is department policy, I didn't…"

Yami cut him off, "That's bullshit, Rafael and you know it. We've all been there. Trying to adjust to a new lifestyle, while still unsure if this is the right choice as well as trying to get a feel of politics that they never bothered teaching us in school? How about you cut him some slack and stop being an ass because you can't deal with your—God forbid— feelings?"

Rafael scowled at him, "Fine. I'll make it up to him." Yami stared hard at him so he rushed out again, flushing a bright red color that made lovely contrast with his fair-colored hair, "I promise!"

Yami let the matter go for now. He returned the piece of paper with the lab report written on it back in the file, answered a few questions the patient was asking, then fell into step next to Rafael again as they headed towards the scrubbing areas and the room where the surgery would take place. They parted ways, Rafael going to his premedication and patient preparation area and Yami heading towards the sink where he would scrub up.

Seto were already there. He paused slightly at the entrance and Seto looked at him. then he turned back to his task.

"Hello," Yami said.

He stepped into the small scrubbing area, standing next to the brunet and starting to wash his hands with antimicrobial soap.

"Good morning," Seto said calmly. He glanced at him and Yami felt the heat of the gaze on the side of his face.

He smiled tentatively and looked up at Seto, meeting his eyes with bravery that suddenly seemed to fill him in surplus. The blue eyes were much warmer than the past few days and his heart raced with hope. They were still swimming beneath heaps of hurt and blame but that didn't intimidate him as much as before since the coolness in them faded, replaced with a tired expression instead that manifested as miniscule burst capillaries in the whites next to the blue and slightly dark smudges beneath untidy and clumped lashes.

It was obvious that the past few days weren't difficult for him only.

The brunet looked back at the sink. Yami mirrored his actions, leaning forward to let the water flow over his arm and above his elbow, keeping his hands up above the level of the rest of his arm.

"Are you ready for today?" he asked, carefully keeping his tone casual. There was silence for a little while and he looked up to see the reason for the extended silence. There was a confused expression on Seto's face and Yami smiled again, explaining gently, "The elections?"

Realization blossomed on the handsome features and Yami felt a rush of affection. "Oh…" Seto exclaimed. Yami chuckled lightly and turned back to washing his hands. He was scrubbing under his nails with the file that came with the scrub-brush package as the brunet shrugged, mumbling, "I suppose… I am not too excited about things, though."

Yami cringed. He sighed and shook his head for a second, then dropped his hands. He stepped away from sink, feeling Seto's eyes on him. He let his wet arms hang by his sides as he stared at his feet, which were shuffling on the gleaming ceramic ground in the pair of dark-grey crocs he was wearing.

He heard the water going off in front of Seto and realized that the brunet too had stepped away from the sink, halting the process and turning to face him.

He looked up, swallowing the lump at the back of his throat and with it, every last dregs of stubbornness and doubt and pride and betting everything on the fact that…even though he really couldn't confirm anyone's words, he had seen what kind of person Seto was. There was no way to confirm anyone's words. Unless he was present for every single detail that happened to people he now knew, witnessed everything that happened to them in the past…he really had no way to confirm anything.

He met Seto's eyes determinedly.

"I know this isn't the right time, but I cannot wait to say this because I am the reason you are getting what should be a very rewarding experience ruined for you," he started. Seto's eyebrows inched together in confusion so he added, knowing that he was about to be interrupted, "I am sorry, Seto… I am so, so sorry."

Whatever Seto was about to say, he apparently changed his mind. Yami didn't know why, but he was grateful for not being cut off when he absolutely had to hold on to whatever courage making him speak this out loud.

"I have thought long and hard about this and I had meant to speak to you sooner. I hate apologies," he admitted. Truthful and honest, he kept his eyes fixed on Seto's while he spoke. "I hate receiving them and I hate giving them even more. But you deserve one because I was wrong for even entertaining the possibility that what he said was true," he admitted, keeping his voice calm and level.

He paused for a few moments to collect his thoughts. He did not want to sound like he was rambling. Neither did he want to sound as though he was rushing out his words quickly as if to get things done.

"I was… I was angry and hurt that day," he started once again. He looked at the edge of the stainless steel sink they were standing in front of, unable to keep up the eye contact any longer. "I am not trying to make excuses for my behavior. I know I was rude and abrasive and tactless at handling things. I am just trying to explain why I acted the way I did, even if it wasn't acceptable."

"Yami…" Seto breathed out.

Yami quickly shook his head and looked up at him again, "Please, Seto… let me finish."

The blue eyes softened and Yami felt a pang in his chest at that. The way Seto looked at him made his knees weak and the complete absence of the horrible coolness he treated him with for the past few days and the return of that soft expression made him so happy, he felt faint with it. Giddy.

"You've been nothing but kind and patient with me. You've stood beside me when you didn't need to and you've offered me more love and support than everyone I knew for my entire life combined. You've given me no reason to believe Bakura's accusations. In fact, I don't even know why I even considered them, especially since I was getting my ass kicked by the person saying those things."

He swallowed once again and looked elsewhere once again.

"You were right…" he mumbled in low tones, for once allowing his voice to weaken. "I have taken out the frustration and anger at the fact that… more than half a decade following my relationship with him, I was letting Bakura control me, push me around as he pleased, on you. And for that, I am very, very sorry."

He said it just a few seconds ago. He hated apologies. Truly, it took so much out of him to admit he was wrong… trying to fix what he messed up was so much more difficult that what he usually did in such situations. He usually just walked away. Burned everything to the ground and walked away without second glance at whoever it was he was destroying with his mistakes. It was a thought that hit him with a sudden epiphany. He really hadn't cared what he left behind.

Seto was different. He supposed Seto was so different that it made no sense making comparisons.

He was damaged. He had gone through trauma that rendered most people useless for the rest of their lives. Not only had he gone through it and emerged alive…he had made something of himself in life. Unfortunately, his pride at his own personal achievements, at his strength and the way he revived himself from the proverbial ashes of those tragedies, usually blinded him to the ugly side of it all. It made him think of himself as invincible, without faults.

It was why apologies were so difficult for him.

But for Seto?

Seto deserved an apology. And he was offering him one, knowing that the brunet had every right to reject it, perhaps humiliate him by walking away and turning him down. But he still deserved the apology and the risk related to it. The blemish on his invincibility and the tarnish to his pride.

The silence was stretching for far too long over the small enclosure. Yami was uncomfortably aware of that fact. He raised his eyes to stare up into Seto's eyes, facing the verdict the brunet was going to pass on him. The expression on the familiar, painfully handsome features was something he was used to. Softness, vulnerability that he knew…somehow he knew, was reserved only for his eyes. The coolness, the closed-off expression and aloofness was the norm for Seto. He supposed that, in a way, he too was an exception to many rules Seto had that he hadn't discovered yet.

The silence was broken by Seto's clear voice speaking out loud, giving him and his apology enough respect not to come out as a mumble, but a plain and honest tone that soothed the sting of shame that came with standing repentant and asking for forgiveness.

"I do not want to lose you, Yami…"

Yami took in the words carefully. He was holding his breath while listening. He didn't know what else Seto was going to say. He was hyperaware of the fact that the water had finished dripping from the tips of his fingers, where his hands were loosely hanging by his sides. He could feel the remaining suds of soap bursting on his skin, tickling it with the minuscule touch it left on it.

"I don't mean to belittle your apology. I understand how difficult it is for you… but I haven't… I haven't been expecting you to apologize." Yami was silently staring at him in confusion. "I've done my share of thinking and I know that it's unfair to hold you responsible for thinking the way you did that day. You had just been attacked by someone who abused you for years, Yami. Of course you were going to consider his words very carefully. And to be honest, there really is nothing that can prove his words wrong. The only thing I could think that night after calming down was how to prove his words wrong to you, Yami."

"Seto… I already told you I don't need…" he started, shaking his head and quickly trying to evade the way Seto was trying to absolve him of the way he had mucked things up.

Immediately, Seto cut him off.

"I am going to let Pegasus have the seat, Yami…"

The words seemed to echo for the longest while after they were uttered in the small space. Yami remained silent in the face of this new declaration, his eloquence all but gone as he realized that, once again, Seto was breaking a general rule in his life, proving wrong solid facts and cornerstones of reality and his very existence as a passerby in this life. He was usually dispensable. Too much work and too little compensation for it. Easy to discard, easy to forget.

And most importantly… in comparison to such an esteemed position… he was insignificant.

Guilt immediately rushed over him in waves and he vehemently snapped, "I can't allow that."

Seto shook his head and shrugged, "This is not up to you."

"It is up to me if it's done in my name… I am not worth this. Nothing is worth this, Seto. It will not make me happy and it will always be something I will never forgive myself for. Please…" he said the last bit with his voice breaking. He was desperate and he didn't even bother hiding it. "This is not the correct decision, Seto…"

"This is the only way to prove to you that I haven't been seeing you just to get through the elections, Yami," Seto calmly informed him.

"I don't care anymore if you are using me to get through the elections, Seto!" he snapped angrily.

The statement surprised him almost as much as it surprised Seto, who stood gaping at him in shock, anger and a whirl of something that once again, Yami was affronted to realize that it mimicked pity in a very upsetting way.

Quickly, he rushed out, "I don't care about that nonsense anymore. I have no way to prove Bakura wrong…but I do know one thing. I too, don't want to lose you, Seto. I want you. And I know that you have some idiotic thought in your mind that you are obliged to cater to my every whim and every insecurity…every _stupidity_ ; I just want you to know that you don't have to think that way and I don't need to be coddled this way. You say you don't want to lose me. Trust me, leaving this position for me is the way to do just that. You aren't obliged to give something like this up for me. I won't allow it and I don't want it, nor welcome it."

"Yami…you aren't being coddled…" Seto breathed out after a few seconds silence.

"You are. I am not worth such a sacrifice, Seto, and you shouldn't _have_ to choose. And you don't _have_ to choose," he firmly said.

Silence hung over them for many moments after that. They were both silent. Yami had nothing more to say to express how upset he was over Seto's suggestion. He didn't know the reason behind Seto's silence, though.

He didn't get a chance to ask about it. Jou appeared at door to the small enclosure, looking hesitant and looking between them after clearing his throat to announce his arrival.

Yami turned to the sink again as the blond asked, "You guys alright? Rafael is grumping about the patient getting agitated at the table."

Yami started the scrubbing process all over again as he listened to Seto grunting that it was Rafael's fault for ordering the patient's transfer into the OR before either surgeons were there with him. he listened as he rubbed his nails with a new nail file from a new scrub-brush package which he opened, his thoughts going around in circles. He was torn between relief that he could consider his apology accepted and frustration that things were not yet settled between them. He didn't know if Seto was still upset and how long it will take for things to just go back to being normal. He then remembered that Bakura was going to be present for the next while and he almost swore and his stomach fluttered in fear.

He didn't even notice how his morbid thoughts had left a scowl on his features as he pushed open the OR doors with his back, until the circulating nurse helping him put on his gown asked him if he was alright and when he stared at him in confusion, he told him that he had a very scary look on his face.

Yami closed his eyes and tied his disposable gown closed properly, sighing and clearing his head of these thoughts. This wasn't the time or place. He distracted himself by staring at the patient's abdomen, planning his incision sight. He glanced at the X-Rays and CT-Scan sheets hung up by the display at an empty wall of the room to think about the possible techniques to hold the trocars while retrieving the bullet that sat in the patient's lower abdomen.

He cast only one glance at the observation panel, holding the brown-gaze with his own with ease and nonchalance that surprised even him. Seto's arrival after he finished scrubbing up broke the non-verbal exchange. The brunet had cast a cold gaze onto Bakura and Yami was upset to see the little smirk playing on the handsome features that belonged to his ex-lover. He approached the table, offering a nod to the assistant nurse as greeting.

Seto stood on the opposite side of the table. Yami looked up at him, grateful for the familiarity and the affection he saw in Seto's blue eyes.

He smiled and shifted his eyes to watch Rafael and Amelda starting to intubate the patient and finishing their final adjustments to their machine. He was happy to see Rafael allowing amelda to slip the tube into the patient's mouth, letting him confirm its correct placement; he knew this was Rafael's way of apologizing for scolding the younger man. They looked up at him, Rafael letting Amelda give Yami the permission to go ahead and start his own work.

Mechanically and in record time, he made his incisions and placed his ports into the abdomen with ease and practiced motions that surprised even him. He raised his head to look at view through the LCD screen hung next to the bed. While he waited for the abdomen to inflate with carbon dioxide, he felt Seto staring at him. He met his gaze, a questioning look on his features, so Seto shook his head and looked at the screen as well.

There was nothing but silence in the room for the next few minutes as he made the final adjustments to the view and started maneuvering his way into the patient's lower abdomen, through the track left by the bullet.

"Why are we removing the bullet?"

The question rang out from somewhere above him. He blinked and looked up towards the source of the sound, the speakers beneath the glass panel where people sat watching. Bakura was leaning forward to speak into the intercom. He had a thoughtful look on his features, but Yami's eyes hardened when he caught sight of the mischievous glint that he was trying so hard to hide from his brown eyes.

He looked back to the field, asking, "What do you mean, Dr. Akeifa?"

"I mean… the patient is obviously hemodynamically stable. The X-Ray doesn't show any perforated viscera and the CT doesn't indicate the presence of damage along the bullet's track. Why would we try to remove the bullet? Expose the patient to the complications of anesthesia and post-operative infections, surgical-site infections and medications when we can just leave it there?"

He knew what Bakura was doing. Apparently, so did Seto. Yami felt Seto's hands tighten around the probes. He glanced up briefly to see him rolling his eyes with his back to the viewing glass and he grinned inwardly in affection.

He was expected to get flustered at being questioned. Bakura had no new tricks up his sleeve, apparently. He still thought he was the same insecure, inexperienced surgeon who was still green; unsure of himself, unsure of his own worth in the field.

This was all very different now and he intended, just like he had been doing ever since the start of this day, to break the rules that Bakura thought he was going to play by.

He smirked and looked up once again after pausing for just a few seconds to peel another layer of peritoneum off the muscle sheath.

"Could we recall together the indications for bullet removal, then, Dr. Akeifa?" he amiably suggested. Silence rang in the room for a few seconds, in which Bakura's eyes were fixed on him in shock that he could feel even if he didn't need to lift his eyes off the laparoscopic field as he cut through muscles with ease and expertise. When the silence persisted, he looked up, noting the taken-aback expression that indicated that Bakura still had the habit of studying things without organizing the scientific matter. That once he was surprised with a question, he couldn't provide a suitable answer. He didn't really care for saving him the embarrassment of saying he couldn't recall, or even attempting a weak, jumbled explanation, insisting, "Well?"

"Pressure areas, sensei," Honda spoke before Bakura could. "If the bullet is in an area where the patient's weight is supported, it would be painful. Removal is a must."

"Excellent point, Honda; what else?" he praised with a pleased grin.

"Err…can I say the rest of them?" Honda asked, uneasily looking around him, especially at Bakura, who looked way older than everyone sitting with them and was shooting positively murderous looks his way.

"Sure, go ahead," Yami nodded, fixing his eyes once again on the field.

"Local abscess forming around it due to dirty cloth fragments is also an emergency. We can remove it depending on the place it is stuck; impinging on nerves, lodging in vessel lumen, in joint spaces, in the eye…some children, in very rare cases, show signs of lead poisoning after a few months and that too is an immediate indication for removal."

Yami smiled and looked up at him. "That's great, Honda. What else?"

Honda shrugged, "Patient-related factors."

Bakura snorted. Honda immediately recoiled. Yami scowled at him.

"Like what, Honda?" he insisted. Honda turned his brown eyes from Bakura to stare at him and he paused his action on the trocars to hold his junior's unsure brown eyes with his own. He raised an eyebrow encouragingly and repeated, "Like what, Honda? What are these patient factors?"

Honda started speaking again and Yami was angry to hear the unsure stutter in his voice. It was an expected reaction. He had been in that position for so many times working with Bakura. Unsure of his information as he just started reading, confidence hanging by a very thin thread that a derisive sound like the one Bakura made was very easy to sever.

He listened to the kid stutter out, "Err… the patient… err… has a cosmetic problem."

"Great…when does this happen?" he asked encouragingly.

"When the bullet is bulging. Low impact artillery cause that."

Yami nodded. He continued his pathway towards the bullet surely, he and Seto in perfect attunement to one another. Their motions were almost automatic. They've worked these cases together so many times now, Yami's experience with the equipment improving with every surgery he scrubbed up for. It helped that this was an uncomplicated case, the patient of average size without excess fat or abnormal anatomy.

He could focus a good deal on his conversation with Honda.

"You missed one point," he said, expertly cauterizing a small bleeder he noticed on his way. He glanced up to acknowledge the questioning expression on Honda's features, then added with a grin, "This patient does not want to walk around with a bullet inside him."

Honda's face broke into a grin. "I suppose no one would want that, sensei!" he agreed with a slight chuckle.

Bakura spoke again, forcing Yami's eyes to rest on him.

"You should punish him for speaking without permission."

Yami paused. He felt the subtle almost-convulsive tightening of Seto's hand on his trocars at the words. He looked at Bakura and smiled, sure that his white-haired ex-lover would clearly see it in his eyes which were the only visible part of his face under the surgical mask.

"That's not my style, Dr. Akeifa. Honda is a resident. Not a slave who needs permission before speaking."

Bakura snorted. "I've lived to see scrawny little Yami with his own style and speaking of human rights."

Yami felt his ears reddening and looked down at the surgical field to continue, trying to ignore the retaliation to his apparent 'insolence'. After all, he had embarrassed him by having an actual rationale for the bullet removal, he allowed a junior resident to answer a question that he, Bakura, couldn't…and to add to all of that, he rebuked his recommendation on how to treat his juniors, favoring the kid's welfare instead.

Yes, there will be retaliation and he steeled his nerves to face it.

"Remember that surgery list that had eight explorations, Yami?"

The corners of his mouth and his eyes hardened; yes, actually. He remembered it very well. Too well for his liking. Something that vengeful done against him for no reason whatsoever, other than the fact that he had argued about the method of closure for a wound on the upper arm…yes, he remembered very well how thoroughly he had been punished and he most probably wasn't going to forget it. Over twenty-four hours of continuous surgeries. An average exploration took him four hours. He had worked eight during that list. Thirsty and hungry, he had refused to drink or eat anything, not because he didn't have time –which was partly the issue—but also because he knew he wouldn't have time to go to the bathroom after. He stood through four of them, until his thighs had started shaking and his legs started cramping in pain. One of the nurses had brought him a chair, covered it with sterile sheets and helped him sit down through the rest of it.

"I used to control every single move you did as my junior resident, Yami…" the plain evil chuckle that followed this admission made Yami's skin crawl. He bit at his lip behind the mask. He tightened his fingers around the trocar to try and prevent his hands from shaking, knowing that it was all on display on the screen.

The rigid way with which he moved the trocar made his hold on the tissues before him slip. Seto immediately moved his own trocar with a grasper attached, pulling on the coils of intestine before they could slip back down and obscure their vision. Yami glanced up at him, meeting the blue eyes with his own, easily reading the anger surging through the brunet at the words.

And to make things worse, Bakura wasn't done. Yami wasn't sure if he should be grateful or horrified at that. He was still speaking, thankfully not noticing Yami's slip-up as a result of his words.

"You didn't dare speak without permission back in those days. And when you did, you ended up with surgery lists like that one… or getting stuck in the ward for weeks, doing nothing except taking patients' vitals, denied from entering the surgery lists as punishment. It was quite amusing, watching you take those punishments so silently and docilely. I thought you'd be doing the same with your own juniors."

Yami refused to acknowledge him still. He didn't rise to the ante, didn't give him what he wanted. There was no point. He knew that there was no point in working himself up. He was safe from Bakura's violence, surrounded by Seto…by his junior residents, by Rafael… by his friends from the nurses, Jou, the superior who was ready to throw punches for his employees. His reputation was untouched here, no matter what venomous words Bakura was spouting. He had no reason to reply.

Until…

"I suppose it gives you some high and mighty feeling that you aren't doing this to this wet-behind-the-ears rookie. I do wonder why you bother defending such unsure and unconfident little…"

Yami's head snapped up.

"Dr. Akeifa, please step out of my operating theater. I won't continue this surgery in your presence."

Yami felt everyone's eyes on him. He ignored each and every one of them, dividing his attention between Honda, whose face reddened and Bakura, who stared down at him in shock through the observation window.

The silence stretched, except for the rhythmic sound of the ventilator's monitor beeping away with the patient's heart-rate and saturation percentage.

Yami's scowl deepened when the white-haired man didn't make a move in response to his words. He motioned for Seto to halt his onward motion with the trocar with the camera attached, as well as shook his head at the assisting nurse who was preparing the bean dish where the bullet was to be extracted to, insisting, "I said, leave my operating theater, Dr. Akeifa. You are not welcome to observe my work, neither is your unpleasant lack of work ethics, the way you are openly insulting a colleague present in the same room in front of everyone else."

"I didn't insult you, Yami," Bakura smirked, about to add to his statement, but Yami interrupted him.

"I don't care what you are saying about me. You've insulted my department's junior resident. Please leave the operating theater."

"But I am here for an observership. You can't…"

"I can and I am," Yami coldly insisted. "Get out, or I will have to have you escorted out by force."

He could feel everyone holding their breath, everyone's gazes shifting between and Bakura, watching to see this standoff and how it would proceed. Only Seto had an idea of what was between him and Bakura. No one else understood what was happening and the full, real depth of the confrontation taking place, but everyone was perceptive enough to realize what a battle of wills this was. And they were all watching to see how it would end. Yami had done enough, proving that his junior's knowledge outdid this seasoned surgeon's. It was now the time to decide if his victory would last, or if Bakura was going to dominate anyway.

"You're throwing me out for saying he's a rookie?" Bakura asked in disbelief, pointing at Honda with a degrading wave of his hand.

"Yes. I actually am, Dr. Akeifa. You've done it twice presently. Leave the OR now, I will not repeat myself," Yami callously insisted. He saw no need to raise his voice beyond the cold, calm tone he was using.

There was a faint hum around them. Yami saw the assisting nurse whispering something to the circulating nurse and he could feel Amelda's wide eyes fixed on him in disbelief. He firmly ignored all of that, fixing his ex-lover with a cold look that he honestly had no idea where he got the strength for. For almost a minute, they held each other's eye, Yami's cold and dismissive, Bakura disbelieving that he, Yami, was throwing him out in this humiliating manner. He seemed to try and find ways to wiggle out of this to avoid bending to Yami's power. Yami understood that very well. It was why he continued holding the brown gaze with his own crimson one.

Until Bakura finally yielded.

He got up, shook his head disdainfully, casting a disgusted look at the OR, then at Honda who seemed to want the earth to split open and swallow him whole, then left.

* * *

It was past two in the afternoon when they placed the final stitches on the final surgery for the day. He was aware he had finished the surgery list in record time. He had taken off his disposable gown and the gloves and proceeded to wash his hands when he found Honda standing next to him, face flushed a very alarming shade of crimson, panic in his brown eyes.

"Sensei, I am so, so sorry…" he was blurting out in an urgent, horrified tone of voice. "I did not mean to embarrass you or make problems. I didn't even know who that was, Sensei. I'm so, so sorry…"

"Shhhh, Honda…calm down," Yami rushed out, having to raise his voice ever-so-slightly to speak over the rush of mumbling apologies spilling out of Honda's lips.

He took his arm and led the way out of the area where anyone could hear or see them. The way the kid looked like he was about to pass out with mortification genuinely upset Yami beyond belief and he was determined not to handle this tactlessly. He made his way over to the locker rooms, checking that they were empty, then led Honda inside them and shut the door after they got inside and after he pushed the younger man down to sit on the bench provided next to the lockers.

Silence stayed with them for a few moments. Honda wasn't looking at him. He looked terrified, Yami was disturbed to see. He looked up tentatively to meet his eyes, once again starting to apologize.

"I am so sorry," he started but Yami shook his head dismissively.

"What the hell are you sorry for, Honda?" he asked in exasperation.

"That person is not…"

Yami cut him off again, "That person is someone who should not be a reason for you to be so upset. No one should make you this upset, kid, do you understand?" Honda stayed silent, not replying at all and still looking far too remorseful and confused for Yami's liking. He sighed. "Honda… do you know who that is?"

Honda shook his head.

"Dr. Akeifa was my senior back in Egypt," he explained. He sat down next to Honda on the bench, hands on his knees and looking the younger man straight in the eyes. Realization spread over the neat, handsome features of Honda's face and he oh-ed silently, so Yami added, "He still thinks things are the same as they were back then. He still thinks that when he is vile and rude and questions each and every step of any surgery and actually affect my performance during that surgery."

"But sensei, nothing can do that with you," Honda argued, awed. "Even now, you've kept your cool, you've finished the list faster than…"

Yami nodded and interrupted him, "Exactly, Honda. His words no longer hold power over me. It's why I didn't say anything until he started disrespecting you. That, to me, is unacceptable. This isn't your fault. It is my _duty_ to defend you. I would do it again, over and over, in your presence and behind your back. I don't appreciate having insecure and traumatized junior residents. This is not how I do things. Don't think you have to apologize for that."

"Sensei…" Honda breathed out.

"You keep apologizing to me and I don't like that, Honda. You haven't done anything wrong," Yami continued, staring at the lockers ahead of him, his voice quiet. "I know too well what it feels like to be a junior resident. I know that you try to juggle your schedule with reading and studying, as well as trying to deal with politics that no one bothers teaching you in school. I know the uncertainty of it, I know that you're trying to adjust to inhumane working conditions…in the name of the nobility of the profession and in the name of doing something you are passionate about." He paused for a few moments, then turned to once again look at Honda, adding, "I know, alright…? I just know."

Honda stayed silent, staring at him in a shocked way. Yami raised his hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving him a small pat.

"Don't apologize. You actually made me proud," he reassured with a gentle smile.

Honda ran a hand over his face and groaned slightly, "Just how did that happen, Sensei? He's right, you know…it was not ethical for me to speak out of turn. I've embarrassed him and embarrassed you and it's just…"

"Honda, this is not some medieval prison where you have to ask permission before speaking," Yami patiently repeated. "You haven't done anything of that sort. This is a place for learning. If he knew the answer to my question and if he was genuinely interested in the reason behind the surgery, he would have continued the discussion to the end. He wasn't asking for the indication for the bullet extraction because he wanted to know, Honda. He was just questioning for the sake of doing just that. You, on the other hand, genuinely wanted to discuss the case. I assure you, whether you spoke up or not, he would have found a way to get himself kicked out the way he was."

Honda looked uneasy still, but it seemed that he was slowly getting the idea.

"Please Honda, just let the matter go and try and ignore what just happened," Yami pleaded. Honda nodded hastily, so he paused for a few moments, then added, "You are smart and you are very skilled, Honda. Please don't let someone like that kill the passion in you, alright?"

"He didn't kill it in you, Sensei," Honda whispered, looking at his feet and shrugging.

Yami looked at him in shock, taken aback by the statement.

Honda looked up at him, asking, "Did you really do explorations for eight patients one after the other?"

Yami paused slightly. Then he nodded, "Yes. I did."

"That's why you're so quick with your stitches," Honda observed.

Yami smiled, "I've said this before behind your back and I will say it again. You're giving me a run for my money, Honda."

The kid chuckled lightly. "I will never be able to take on three explorations one after the other, Sensei… never mind eight."

Yami smiled, but didn't comment further on the matter. He didn't think there was anything more to be said. He was glad that the young man was no longer apologizing and he was satisfied with that. The last thing he wanted was to have Honda traumatized for getting caught up in the middle of a war he had no idea was going on. He needed to make it clear to him that Bakura's venomous words weren't true.

The locker room's door opened before anything else could be said between them. Yami turned to his left, where the door was to see who had entered and felt a sink in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the white hair, tanned skin and cold brown eyes.

"Oh nice… having a comforting little chat with the hurt little junior, Yami… isn't this adorable?" Bakura was already spitting his venom as Yami expected him to. He got up and took a step forward towards him, just as he added with a sarcastic, derisive look towards Honda. "What? Did I make him cry? We both know I have a talent for making juniors cry. You're far more resilient than he is, how…"

Yami interrupted him. "What do you want, Bakura?" he asked in a quiet tone.

"Me? What would I want, Yami?" Bakura grinned, crossing his arms and leaning closer, invading his personal space.

Yami stood his ground bravely, with power of will that he supposed was made of titanium. He felt Honda rising to his feet beside him as well and he could just feel the buzz of nervous energy the young man was exuding behind him. He panicked, knowing that Honda was going to physically attack Bakura if he didn't do anything.

He turned, looking up at the younger man, quietly telling him, "Honda, could you please give us a few minutes alone?"

"Sensei…" Honda protested and Yami shook his head.

"Go, Honda," he insisted, a pleading look on his features.

The young man looked very uncomfortable, shooting aggressive, unhappy glances at Bakura who had a predatory look on his features that Yami knew all too well. Thankfully, Honda took the hint, opened the door which they stood in front of and left them alone, rushing out and apparently he knew that he didn't want to witness the confrontation taking place and didn't even close the door properly behind him in his haste to leave.

Yami shifted his eyes to look up at Bakura. He let his arms hang at his sides as he faced the brown-eyed, white-haired man with a closed off expression, hiding the racing of his heart at yet another familiar scene unfolding. A closed locker room with only him and Bakura in it. Every single time they stood this way, the experience ended in a lot of pain. It was simply a different setting. Yami remembered that the door had been to Bakura's back each time. It was a tiny comfort that it was to the side, this time. Perhaps if he wanted to run away in fear –like every sense screamed at him to do right now—he would be able to do that.

His pride forced him to remain standing, however.

"I suppose you enjoyed that thoroughly, didn't you?" Bakura amiably asked, chuckling darkly.

Yami blinked, "I don't know what you're talking about. I am going to ask you once again, Bakura. What do you want?"

"You've grown some claws, Yami," Bakura repeated the statement he said back in Tokyo and Yami felt a chilling shiver rushing down his spine.

"Bakura if you think you can walk into my life again and start terrorizing me the way you did back in Egypt, I will have to tell you that you are sadly mistaken," he calmly said.

He chose his words carefully. He was trying to be reasonable. Bakura was erratic and had cornered him again. He supposed that a part of him was raging and regretting that he told Honda to leave. He felt tiny and scared suddenly, missing the presence of someone with him right now. But he knew he could never live it down if Honda saw the power Bakura held over him. He knew that he couldn't appear this weak in front of the young man.

"Yami… I've ruined everything you've been struggling to pretend that you built, just by walking back into your life," Bakura smirked. Yami stayed silent, having nothing to say to that. "You easily swallowed everything I've said to you about Kaiba. And just like that, I've ruined that for you. You can do nothing except believe every single thing I say to you. Don't think for one second that you can walk away from me, Yami. We both know that you are too weak to do that."

Yami stayed silent for a while, making sure that Bakura was done. "Are you done?" he asked, an unimpressed look on his features.

"So how did the fight unfold? Did you and Kaiba yell a lot? He looks very intimidating. Has a very scary glare," Bakura amusedly added.

Yami stoically stood listening, not giving any reaction to the words and enduring them, waiting for Bakura to just be done. He had tried reasoning before and it didn't work. He tried being aggressive and that too didn't work. Very long ago, he tried affection when Bakura got like that. He was sadly mistaken that time as well.

Years later and he was standing there, trying yet another technique with Bakura. Perhaps letting him speak, saying everything he had to say, would make it easier to reason with him. Calm the pure evil residing within him, soothing the urge to just…hurt whoever stood before him?

And for what seemed like the millionth time… Yami was mistaken.

There just wasn't a right answer with Bakura. Answering him annoyed him further. Offering affection did the same. Apparently…staying unresponsive had the exact same effect as every other thing he tried with him before.

Without warning, he was pushed back into the lockers. He hadn't been expecting it so soon, especially since he really didn't say anything at all. He flinched and looked up at the irate face above him.

"Why aren't you answering me, Yami?" Bakura asked, his tone angry and his eyes livid with emotions.

"Bakura…leave," he quietly pleaded. He was sure that his eyes reflected the strength of his emotions. The anger seemed to amplify in the brown eyes and Yami knew that whatever Bakura planned on doing, he was going to do it anyway, regardless of his response and its appropriateness or lack of it. So he added in a pleading whisper, "I don't understand what you want from me. I don't want you back. And you don't want me back. Just leave me alone… go on with your life. I've gone on with mine."

The last bit caused whatever anger was there on Bakura's features to turn into a very scary expression that sent Yami's heart to his throat, a split second before he was once again slammed back into the lockers with a loud sound that seemed to reverberate in the empty room. A hand was on his chest, pinning him against the metal cupboards, while the other was fisted in his hair in a very familiar, very sickening way. His eyes were clenched shut at the expected pain and he couldn't see anything.

He was shocked when he felt Bakura pressing his lips against his.

His eyes flew open in shock and horror and that was when he started struggling earnestly. His hands rose and he clawed at the larger body pinning him against the lockers, turning his head away and trying to escape the unwelcome, unpleasant and frankly nightmarish feel of those familiar lips against his. The hand in his hair tightened, holding him in place and one of his hands was slammed back against the lockers.

One armed as he was and pathetically overpowered by Bakura's larger frame and paralyzed with fear and disgust, he felt tears of anger, humiliation and disgust gathering in the corner of his eyes. He was helpless against yet another form of abuse that Bakura apparently had no qualms pulling on him.

He closed his eyes, humiliated and ashamed to feel tears slipping beneath his lids as he continued to futilely struggle against this new form of assault and groaning in pain against the hateful touch as he felt the familiar pain in his scalp from the hold Bakura's hands had on him. There was no way to escape. He could only offer this token struggle without hope of evading it. He knew that nothing could help him out of this situation and he hope that, just like any of the others before it, it would pass.

Suddenly, he felt something brush his hand that was fisted in Bakura's clothes, trying futilely to push him away. A moment later, he felt his ex-lover's hold on him loosen slightly, then, as he was opening his eyes to see what was going on, completely let go of him.

In a déjà-vu that sent relief rushing through him, he saw a repeat of what happened that morning almost a week ago in the hotel's café in Tokyo. A familiar arm invading his vision.

Only this time, it wasn't to wrap reassuringly around his hand around a mug of coffee.

This time, Seto's hand ended up wrapped around Bakura's neck, squeezing tight enough for his knuckles to turn white and for Bakura to let go of him. Instinctively, he backed away from him a few steps. He could clearly see the scene unfolding before him.

The locker room's door was open. It had been open throughout, it seemed, since he couldn't remember hearing it close and recalled that Honda had left it open in his haste to leave. Realization dawned on him that the kid had probably gone directly to call Seto and he felt a rush of gratefulness that was based on an entirely primal and very basic survival instinct. He supposed that if he had been an outsider to the situation, he would have balked at Honda's actions, but all he knew was that he had been spared the frankly terrifying situation he had been placed in and for that, he was eternally grateful.

But once the initial relief that he had been spared Bakura's hateful touches, he took in the scene before him and realized what was going on.

Seto had a terrifying look on his face.

His heart, which had calmed marginally with Seto's appearance, started racing once again at the expression on his lover's features. He looked as if he was never going to smile again. The softness that made his eyes so breathtaking, that caused his heart to catch in his throat with the way they looked at him, was all gone. Instead, his eyes were half-lidded and hard in anger, fixed as if in a trance on Bakura. His eyebrows were fixed close to one another in a scowl and his mouth was set in a tense line, his jaw tightening with the anger that Yami could feel him radiating all around him.

His arm was stretched out in front of him, his hand still wrapped firmly around Bakura's neck. Yami could see clearly the way the long, slender fingers dug painfully into the neck they were holding on to. His thumb was lodged quite painfully into the side of Bakura's trachea and Yami knew—from past agonizing experiences—how much that particular grip hurt.

Yet, in spite of that past experience and in spite of the fact that it was Bakura who had given it to him before, Yami felt his heart sinking. Seto looked murderous. His arm was unwaveringly steady, heedless of Bakura's powerful struggles against it, pushing and splattering and coughing –quite pathetically, Yami noted. He knew that Seto wasn't about to let go of Bakura so easily. In fact, he didn't think he was going to let go of him, unless he was sure that he had done lasting damage.

"Seto, please," he quietly stepped up next to him, placing a hand on his outstretched arm.

There was noise coming from beside them, curses in Jou's distinct voice. He was asking Seto not to be stupid and to let go of the white-haired man, but it was apparent that Seto wasn't going to listen so easily to them.

"Seto," Yami tried once again, his hand tightening around Seto's forearm, standing in front of Bakura and staring up pleadingly at the brunet.

He was endlessly thankful when a hint of recognition appeared within the depths of Seto's blue eyes. Slowly, he blinked and stared down at him, not loosening his hold on Bakura, who had turned a scary shade of red, his lips turning blue and his struggles growing less violent.

"Please… Seto," he repeated in a soft tone, pleadingly looking up at the brunet. "Let him go. He won't bother us again," he said.

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't give a rat's ass about Bakura, but he didn't want Seto to get into trouble for seriously hurting his white-haired ex-lover. In a burst of enlightenment, he made the realization that this, as well as Bakura's previous proclamations that Seto was simply using him, must be some part of a grand scheme.

He could clearly see the unfair play and Pegasus' scheming, along with Bakura's uncultivated thirst for vengeance. They had tried using rumors and the divide-and-conquer strategy, but apparently he and Seto had gotten past that. It was the only logical explanation why Bakura would attack him in broad daylight in a public locker-room. He was no longer in Egypt. People wouldn't turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to such an assault. And no matter who came to his aid, he knew Seto would react violently to this once he found out about it. With just the right push, he would lose control and do something unethical that would get him in trouble with the University's board. Physically fighting with an international observer wouldn't sit well with the board and perhaps… this was Bakura and Pegasus were aiming for.

"Seto…" he insisted once again, his hand tugging on Seto's arm, praying that he would listen.

To his relief, Seto responded.

It first started with his expressions. The coolness and dangerous look remained, but there was a slight, almost non-existent falter in the tight set of his features, recognition seeping through the red haze of blind anger to shake his self-control back into action. A few moments later, his fingers loosened around Bakura's neck. The tautness, the tension in his arm faded gradually beneath Yami's hand, the muscles slackening. Bakura crumbled to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath he had been denied, and grasping at his aching neck pathetically.

Yami breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his body relax as well. He felt himself leaning against Seto's taller frame, his knees feeling weak and wobbly all of a sudden. He wasn't disappointed. In addition to the solidity that Seto's frame provided him, he felt his hand, wrapped destructively around Bakura's windpipe just mere seconds ago, rising to wrap around his waist and pulling him close. He melted against him, letting his head rest on his upper arm, burying his face into the scrub top's sleeve and letting Seto's scent overwhelm him and soothe his frayed nerves.

There was silence in the room for a while. No sounds were heard other than Bakura gasping for breath and that too, started dwindling down to harsh breaths, then quieter tones.

It was then that he felt Seto taking in a deep breath, then felt the vibration of his voice rising from deep within him to speak in the silence of the room.

"Do not touch him again."

There seemed no need for any other words to be said. Long after the echo of them faded, the threat and finality in them extended menacingly and Yami was so grateful he wasn't at the receiving end of Seto's wrath, neither did he see it often.

Yami clenched his eyes shut tightly, his hands rising to cling to Seto, who turned, letting him lean his head onto his chest, hiding it from view and from what was going on around him, his hand rising to the back of his head. He was aware of things happening around him. Bakura cursing and threatening, Jou speaking to him in firm tones and Honda cutting in to add something. He felt his ex-lover addressing him, but didn't catch what he said and was endlessly grateful when he left. He was followed by Honda and, finally, Jou, who had whispered something at Seto before leaving.

The day was a blur after that. He recalled staying in the locker rooms with Seto for a very long while after. They had talked quietly. Gently, Seto asked him if he was alright and Yami had shakily nodded at him, complaining that once he went Kaiba, any other lips on his made him feel nauseous. Seto lightly laughed and threatened that that better be the case. They had stayed in silence, the mood much lighter all of a sudden as they stood together, Seto's arms wrapped around him protectively. He told him that he wasn't mad at him anymore and that for someone who hated apologies, he sure as hell gave the very best of them. That he wouldn't give up being the head of the department if it upset him, but that if he, Yami asked him to leave it all, he would do it gladly.

It was then that Yami stepped back, glancing at the clock and told him that they should head for their department's meeting hall. It was past four in the late afternoon. He took a deep breath and stepped away from Seto's arms, fixing his hair and his clothes, wiping the remainder of the tears on his face, then looking up at his lover, reminding him that they had to be there for the voting ceremony which still had thirty minutes until it was over. Seto had looked about to protest, but Yami vehemently shook his head and pleaded that they would just go now and enjoy the fact that Seto was going to kick Pegasus' ass, without tarnishing this victory with arguments and gestures that the brunet thought he wanted as proof for his love.

He remembered walking in to stubbornly cast his vote, holding his head high and throwing a disdainful look at Pegasus who has an irate, annoyed look on his features and Bakura was standing next to him, looking murderous. He placed his slip of paper into the box and walked out after directing yet another disdainful glance at the duo. He hadn't know then that Pegasus would resign from their hospital two weeks later and leave Domino and that Bakura would leave Japan and its observership programs and that this would be the last time he ever laid eyes on him.

He didn't know all that as he walked out, looking ahead just to watch his way without knocking into anyone or anything. He paced through the now-familiar hallways of the hospital. He passed by the in-patient wards that he and Honda spent hours in, discussing cases and changing Yami's perspective on doing rounds, while the kid learned new tricks and tidbits from him. He passed by the offices where he and Seto argued over their thesis topic, took the elevator where they first kissed. He passed the operating rooms' floor, and exited the elevator to pass by the cafeteria where Seto endlessly teased him about his diet and suggested swimsuit colors. He saw Ryuji performing CPR on a patient in the ER's arrest room and unseeingly exited the building.

It was raining. It seemed like ages since he had arrived this morning and left his tiny car in the parking area. He was still walking as if in a daze towards his car. He stopped halfway between the gates through which he exited the building and the spot where he parked his car, suddenly realizing that he had gotten soaked thoroughly as he stood contemplating several things at once.

The day had been a remarkable one.

While Bakura had managed to physically attack him yet again, there were many other things that Yami did not allow him to do. He hadn't cowered out of the PACU as he had done a few months after Bakura started outright abusing him, at work and outside it. He used to cower and doubt himself when asked a very simple question, such as the indications for a surgery, but with a venomous tone and a sarcastic leer. That day he had kept calm, didn't let anything make him forget how much time, energy and literal blood sweat and tears he spent on making himself a great surgeon. He didn't let insults get to him, but at the same time, managed to embarrass Bakura by jumping to the defense of the junior-most resident of the department. He did not allow him to ruin the ego of yet another person. And that was the greatest victory he had achieved today.

He would always remember standing there for many minutes after that and not knowing what was it that made him pause like that. The feel of the rain beating down on him, dressed in his scrubs still with a sweatshirt donned over it for warmth, drenched through to the bone. He didn't know if it was tiredness that stopped him like that, or mental strain, or the fact that he once again had to face a nightmare he thought he had left behind.

The day _was_ remarkable. He would always remember it.

He would remember the shock-like sensation that froze him beneath Domino's chilly, violent downpour. He would always remember the relief that he hadn't fallen into one of the most intricate traps of medical politics he ever encountered. He would always remember that he felt too tired after the battle that he had been dragged into unknowingly, almost ruining quite possibly the best relationship he had with someone else.

He would always remember Seto running out in the downpour towards him, shaking him and asking if he was alright. He remembered a numb nod, Seto's concern at it, his insistence that he provided a sane answer for the very insane way he was standing the way he was in the rain. He remembered the way the brown locks were plastered to the sides of Seto's face, the way his nose was slightly red from the coolness of the weather. He remembered the way they had kissed under the rain, letting the stress and tension that lingered between them fade away completely, washed away by the water soaking both of them through. He remembered how grateful he was for the fading memory of Bakura's unwelcome touch, the way he never noticed how breathless he was getting under the rain and kissing the way they were.

He would always fondly look back on the few days after that incident, where they both stayed bed-ridden with a nasty cold from standing in the rain for too long and going home, instead of drying up completely, they preferred the slow love-making without making sure that the house was properly warmed and all the windows closed. They had been far too busy trying to establish a physical contact, the intimacy that mingled every moment of their sexual activity, to really care. And after they were done, spent in one another's arms, they were more preoccupied with the fact that Yami had clung to Seto and cried, the tension of the past two weeks making itself known at a moment of vulnerability. The relief and safety of Seto's arms around him made him oblivious to the cold, and it was obvious that Seto was more concerned with calming him down and making sure he was alright, than the cold that was slowly weakening his immune system. They slept, giggling slightly at Seto's remark that he didn't know if he should take it as an insult that his partner cried right after sleeping with him. They woke up with sore throats, clogged noses and fever.

They had attended the party thrown in honor of the new head of department looking sharp in their suits, but looking pale and ill, with tissues in their pockets and Tylenol pills taken before it. He would always remember fondly the way Seto had once again offered, while blowing his nose that was an adorable shade of red from being sick and eyes too glassy and bright with fever to be considered normal, to let go of the position for him. To reassure him.

Yami had joked and told him to get well soon, because there was no way he was wiggling out of his new job.

He knew that the only thing that can prove Bakura's claims about Seto wrong…was time. The only thing that could prove the wisdom behind giving up the safety of walking away from the uncertainty of it all and instead actually taking that leap of faith they both spoke of, would be time.

And so, he waited.

He waited for those first few weeks. Waited for the funny comments at work to stop, but the childish banter between them that amused everyone in and out of the OR resumed, everyone waiting for the new ways with which Seto would embarrass him or make him blush and all the sassy comments he, Yami had to say in reply. He waited for their little coffee dates to cease, but they didn't.

He waited for stupid comments on his work, and instead, Seto made sure to openly praise every new skill mastered, or every difficult case managed fervently, even contacting one of Japan's most prestigious medical journals with a paper Yami had written and sending it to them, surprising him during a candlelit dinner with the journal asking permission to publish it. He had waited for comments to be made at his frankly shit moods and the way he dealt with stress. Instead, Seto's patience seemed to be abundant in ways that Yami thought should be studied with avid interest.

He waited for the disinterest and boredom Seto spoke of with past lovers to come through…but instead, Seto never tired of telling him that he loved him, showing him that repeatedly. He even waited for the sex to get boring…but there was never a dull time in their bed and each time they were joined felt like the very first one. He had waited to be left alone during a few bad days where he felt too depressed to get out of bed. Seto had immediately taken time off and stayed with him, holding him and simply being there until he got better.

He waited for weeks, then months and months after it.

Then it finally sank in that, for once, he had made the right choice. All he had to do now was hold on for as long as he could. After years and years of disappointments, loneliness and fear of pain. After making sure to confirm that he wanted to proceed with this and…try, he knew that all he had to do now, is fall deeper, hold on tighter and simply enjoy their days together.

It was time to give life a second chance.

The End…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? Remarks? The fic as a whole…hated, loved, what was it like? How can I improve? What did you want to see and was disappointed when you didn't find it?
> 
> Let me know, lovely people. Thanks a million <3
> 
> Hathor…


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